The latest stretch of my journey can be packed into a compound word: suitcase.
I’ve been living out of one, or so it seems. From traveling back and forth to California to visit my love, my brother, or best friend to packing up and moving out west to finally make this thing official. My clothes are constantly being tossed from the dryer into a bag. Or from a bag into the washer. Spin Cycle anyone?
I’m ready to put away all the laundry and rest. On my couch. In our new place in Long Beach, California, hidden on a quiet street just between the shore and the buzz of downtown life. I still can’t believe this place we fell in love with at first click (anyone else spend too much time on Zillow?) is all ours. I can’t believe the life I’ve always said I wanted is now mine. The beach is a short walk away, or as I envision, a roll away (getting custom roller skates upon arrival)! It’s unreal.
I’m genuinely excited.
Not just because of all these details, but because something I dreamed is actually coming to pass.
Do you understand what that means? It means if I can think it, I can have it. It means that indeed, all things are possible. It means that I wasn’t crazy for thinking I should keep going despite what it might have looked like. All those times I could’ve just thrown in the towel, but kept pushing anyhow, were worth it. It means I am here; not just alive, but really living.
And can I tell you something? That’s all I really want. It’s not about the adorable place we’re gonna be in, or even the incredible patio views of palm trees and distant hills. It’s truly about this fear that I have of being on my death bed and wishing I’d done something differently. Wishing I’d taken that chance or risk. Wishing I’d tried just a little harder. Wishing I had a do-over. You know? I don’t want those thoughts as I take my final breaths in this lifetime. When I die, I want to close my eyes in sweet surrender, because I am full. Full of life. So much life that there’s literally no space or time for more.
This is about living the life I was created for. It’s about answering a call I’ve always heard. It’s about trusting my gut and letting go of doubt. It’s about releasing my inhibitions and believing that it’s not always about the outcome, but the willingness to try.
Can I tell you something else? I’m not afraid of failing. I’m not afraid of this not working out and me having to pack up in a suitcase and come back home to the familiar. Do I want it to work? Absolutely. Do I understand the variables? Yes. They give me pause often. The questions: ‘Is this the best decision for my kid?’ ‘How will this impact her life?’ ‘What if you are unsuccessful in your new career?’ All legit questions and concerns. BUT. Also things that I can never know unless I try. So. The only option is to go. And find out.
If it doesn’t work out, THEN, we think about the next step. But see, this is what it’s like when your fear of never trying outweighs your fear of failing. This is whto take that leap. It took me a while to get here. I’ve contemplated California several times over the years. Even suggested it in old relationships. It wasn’t their dream. It was mine. And that’s okay. It all makes sense now.
It’s making all the sense in the world to me now, thank God.