I left home. It was long overdue, but perfectly timed at the same time. I left and moved to the city. I considered (and still consider) California. Near Los Angeles. It wasn’t the time, though. Not yet. Time is of the essence. And I trust timing. Even when it doesn’t move at my pace.
But I sold the house I first brought my baby girl home to, packed us up (well the moving company did), and Solona and I moved away. Not even too far, but still into a completely different world than the one we were used to.
I refused to regret something as simple as never leaving home.
The world is just too big...
And my dreams don’t fit within the parameters of home.
And my energy doesn’t match. I don’t feel connected or plugged in back home. I feel like my battery is low, and I’m constantly on a search for a recharge.
I refused to just stay on twenty percent all the time. Just barely making it through the day. Always in the red. Always wondering how long I could last that way.
And I refused to believe that there was anything more important than living my life for me. Sure, I got hit with the “What’s best for your daughter?” “What about all the conveniences of having family nearby?” “What about the church?” “What about, what about?” “How will you this?” “How can you that?” And I considered all the questions. I thought about the points they were making. Some were valid. I weighed my options and often engaged in debates with myself and others over the decision.
In the end, my decision was to try. The last thing I wanted to do was regret never trying. I could live with myself if it didn’t work out. I would just move on to like, plan Q, R, or S. I could live with myself if everyone else was right, and I was wrong. But I couldn’t live with myself (contentedly) if I never knew either way.
So far, it has been one of the best decisions of my life. A lot like how I felt about leaving my first marriage. Not because he wasn’t a good guy, or that it wasn’t a great set up/life, etc., but because it wasn’t for me, and I knew that in my heart despite how amazing it appeared to outsiders. I’m proud of the times I didn’t allow the fear of the unknown to keep me somewhere I didn’t want to be.
Last night I was talking to someone significant (and insignificant at the same time), and he wanted to know how I was doing. “I’m really great!” I told him.
He mocked me (lol), “I’m great. I’m great… Brandie’s always so great, huh?”
“Yeah. I am,” was my sincere reply.
You see? People (most) get caught up in the ebb and flow of life and find themselves drowning, and sinking, and gasping for air, and panicking, and losing their minds.
I simply ride the waves.
I know that just as sure as I’ll go up, I will also go down. And then back up, and down again. Repeat and continue.
And truth be told (and this is probably what makes the difference)… even when the waves come crashing over me, I think of it as God allowing me to get lost in Him. Because it’s in those times that seem like all hope is gone that God shows Himself so strong in my life and brings me in closer.
And I mean, His love for me is the greatest romance I’ll ever know.
There are no arms I’d rather hold me. How He cares for me? Ah.
So, yeah… at the end of every day, I am ALWAYS great. It’s true. No pretending.
I’m doing this. I’m going for it! Fail or succeed, at least I tried! Can’t regret a try, can you?
First stop is The City, next stop? Who knows? Maybe California and maybe then Asia.
This is what freedom feels like.
This is who freedom allows you to be.