"It's In My Blood.."

So maybe we're not so different after all. Maybe the walls and layers and words are all just a facade. They are the mirrors of pain and anger at each other.. with ourselves. We seem to be closer than what we appear, closer than all the distance and silence and unforgiven tears have all lead us to believe.

" Whenever you feel like criticizing any one... just remember that all the people in this world haven't had the advantages that you've had..." - F. S. Fitzgerald "The Great Gatsby"

I've been asked so many times where I've learned this obsession of travel, where my adventurous love affair originated. Who taught me to live on the wings of a free spirit? I simply replied, "I don't know. No one. It must be in my blood"...

Little did I realize the truth with which I speak.

She wanted to be a writer. She had dreams once upon a moon-lit night. Those were the days she had the world at her fingertips.. and she wrote words and sentences that spoke of truer days, that promised of a better life to come... a life that died with her worth and childhood ideals. She never had the ability to see through those dark nights, to hold her dream as tightly as she held her own head when she'd cry at night.

Turns out my blood runs truer with their own beating essence than my own alone, these women of my life. The breath they exhaled imprinted on my very existence, my "individuality" seems to be a little more of a ... commonality. My Grandmother's biggest regret was wondering "what could have been"... which also happens to be the biggest push for my life and the strength behind my hardest decisions. My love of music and books, my strength of character, my stubbornness ... all commonalities. I put school as the most important thing in my life; going to school was my savior, my pride and joy, the thing that would bring me the life I've always knew was mine. My grandmother never had the opportunity to feel the weight and the significance of a degree or diploma in her hands... and she always regretted it. She always wondered what would have been if she "would have only...". Now I realize the strength that carried my resolve to attain my degree came from whispers not so distant.

So I wasn't alone after all. We're not so different, us women. We hop and skip through each others lives, hurting each other on the outside and loving each other deeply in the shadows of our silences.

When I heard she wanted to be a writer, it was like all the walls came crashing down in an instant. She's not "her", she's me. I am her. We are part of each other, and we continue to carry each other through the dead silence of our stillness. There is no movement, no rushing towards each other in some strong resolve to embrace each other through our differences. But we hold each other still. We hold our memories, our differences, and our loves.. of each other.. of ourselves.

I don't know what happened when they lost it... those possibilities of their youth.. but in an instant the dreams were shut out, left in dark endings and broken promises. So I carry on for all of us. I carry the vehicle of beautiful dreams and youth and possibilities realized. I write for my Mom tonight. I travel for my Grandmother. I live for Me. She lives in Me. I live because of Her. We carry on within.

Sweet Goodbyes

The rubber soles of my shoes pound the nylon track repeatedly. Boom boom boom boom, faster and faster I run. Below me the white blur of the treadmill brand slides past my feet while the motor hums quietly. I stare endlessly as the smudge of letters passes by over and over again. I start to well up in tears as my exhaustion denies my eyes to blink.

I can’t help but think, as my feet strike the ground, of the passage of time. The white blur below me, just like time, moves faster and faster right before my eyes.

Life is very surreal right now. I feel like one of those characters in a movie; standing on the street corner unmoving, while the cars and people around them are a streak of color, moving in hyper drive. I feel like I’m dreaming. 2 ½ weeks. I leave in a couple weeks. Wait, hold on. Ok let me breathe a sec… HEY! Hold on! Wait!

I still love you, Chicago.

I love everything about you. My past three years here have felt like a lifetime. This is the place where I finally felt like I was HOME. This is the place where I grew up, became the woman I am today. This is the city where all my dreams have come true. I’ve expanded and stretched and grown beyond my own recognition. I’ve conquered fears, I’ve danced til the sun peaked over Lake Michigan, I’ve made true friends and lost them all at once. This is the reason I went to college. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. I love it here.

I no longer own a car. In the mornings I get to join the rest of my city in our moves to “point B”. Instead of leaving my highrise in my car and driving straight to work, I walk the city streets and catch busses and cabs and ride the EL. I like it. I put my headphones on and soak in the beating energy of the throngs of people on Michigan Avenue, the blue collars on the Blue Line EL, the families in my neighborhood walking their dogs. I’m in it, I’m more a part of it now. It’s perfect timing; I’m throwing myself into this city for the last couple weeks that I have it.

I can’t believe I’m already moving out of Chicago. It’s difficult to leave a life that you love. But I smile in saying this, because as much as I love my home here…

It would have never been enough.

Not until I live this magnificent aspiration that I’ve held so close for so long will I ever be able to settle anywhere. But I sure am going to miss it here.

I’m going to miss my majestic view of the city and Lake Michigan, watching fireworks from my windows every Wednesday and Saturday, and the serenity of falling asleep in my peaceful apartment. I’m going to miss driving 2-4 hours to get to my family, even more – I’m going to miss seeing/calling my family any time I want. I’m going to miss my dear and amazing friends.

What I have to remember though, is that this all will be right here, waiting for me. I can have this life again. This all is not a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. My world trip however … is. And the thought of the adventures that lie ahead of me… is beyond words. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I will always have Chicago. I will always have home. Now is the time to soar.

“For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been.. and there you will long to return..” -Leonardo Da Vinci


So, Dear Chicago, until we meet again my friend, you will always be my pride and joy. Dear Sweet Home of mine, until I see you once again.

A Motherless Figures Part II

A Motherless Figures Part II

“If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten…

… we belong to eachother…”
• Mother Teresa

Reading my words from 5 years ago, I can’t help but feel my heart break a little. I can still see her; the scared and scarred young girl that I used to be. Page after page I read on of heart break and rejection, page after page of prayers and hopes of a new life to come; a life filled with freedom and love and adventure. It is a life that every morning I open my eyes now and thank God for. A life that as a strong young woman I am proud to say is mine. Teardrop after teardrop, I’ve made this life of mine, and every single teardrop was worth the freedom I breathe now.

I can’t help but ponder though, after remembering my past life, did those dark days affect me? Do those scars dent my daily life with coping mechanisms? Issues? Fears? Surely I couldn’t make it out of that sort of life battle without some sort of war wounds. I can’t help but wonder… like Carrie Bradshaw asks in relation to fathers,

Does a mother figure.. figure?

There isn’t much out there in the way of research of the psychological effects of motherless women, emotionally and/or physically distant mothers. I did find one source of information from missingmother.com;

“Motherless women tend to be non-traditional, original thinkers, purpose-driven, compassionate, sensitive, intuitive and creative. Just some famous women who grew up without mothers: The Sisters Bronte, George Eliot, Marie Curie, Eleanor Roosevelt, Virginia Woolf, Marilyn Monroe, Princess Diana, Maya Angelou, Carol Burnett, Jane Fonda, Liza Minelli, Madonna, Rosie O'Donnell, and Oprah Winfrey. This list does not include women who were emotionally abandoned, since this condition is not as obvious to the world.”

Many Disney characters were also motherless; Ariel, Bell, Cinderella, Princess Jasmine, etc. The typical motherless heroine is one who is adventurous, and free spirited.. someone who made their own rules from lack of a role model and maybe had a little more freedom to do so with no “mother hen” looking out for them.

Most of the slightly more negative research I have found is that the motherless grow up without an obvious role model, no idea of attachment, they are more “harsh” and “tough”.. with a “get over it” mentality. They have no base security or feeling of home/belonging, and almost more masculine in their abilities; more of what I can DO than who I AM. They sometimes demonstrate a fear of abandonment and have a strong desire to prove.


Reading this I felt instantly reassured. This is ME!! Some of those qualities are strong parts of who I am; the good, the bad, and the ugly. And those are my people! It explains so much, I feel like I have found where I belong, and WHY. I understand a little now why I’m so non-conformist and unconventional. All because in my past I learned to live by my own rules (still do), I learned to never accept “no” for an answer, and I learned to fight a little harder a little longer. I found poetry in my life and life in my days. I’m a fighter, because I’ve had to be. And now my life is a wide tapestry of poetry.

This journal isn’t meant to bad-mouth my mother. It’s also not a victimized account of why I had it “rough”. Everyone has/is dealing with their own demons. But I am living without her, and have been for a long time. Even when she was around, she wasn’t around, and I just knew there had to be traits within me because of my life’s storms. I just wanted to be aware.

I have found peace with my mother, and I can say that I do look upon this with “bright eyes” now that I’ve moved above and beyond. To her credit, my mother also gave me the greatest gift of my life…

To make a very long story short, my first couple years of college were the life and death of me. Despite the chaos of full time schooling and work, being dis-fellowshiped from the only religion I’ve ever really known, and my rapidly fading health,… I was happy. Actually, I was miserable but I had a peace in my heart because I was doing the ONE thing that would bring me the life of my dreams and SAVE me;

I was going to school.

Unfortunately, going to school wasn’t easy for me. With all the different stresses I had bearing down on me, my immune system couldn’t keep up. I was sick.. and all the time. We didn’t know what was wrong with me, and test results kept coming back negative. I was underweight and malnourished. Not being able to help me herself, my Mom did the only thing she could;

She gave me my Grandparents.

One night changed everything, and New Years 2005 I moved in with the two people who are now my best friends. It wasn’t always easy, but my entire life changed. I learned to love and be loved in return, I learned what family and support felt like, and I completely flourished. I gained 15 pounds, I gained my health back, and I gained my family.

And that has made all the difference.

We all just need someone to believe in us.

Because of that love, I have learned to fly. I am living all my childhood dreams and almost daily cry tears of happiness because I have everything I’ve ever wanted. I couldn’t ask for more. And this past Mother’s Day, I realized that I have a mother figure after all.. my grandmother.

So I guess being motherless figures after all. Because of my apparent lack,

I have gained the entire world.

A Motherless Figures

A Diary I wrote from January 2005

“To My Grief”

I have tried to let it go
I have tried to move on,
Release the grip,
Forgive..

Many affirmations later, I am still breathless with the pain.
And so we talked
I spoke softer words,
so the harsher ones wouldn’t have room.

I soared beyond my maturity,
and apologized for words unspoken

I felt her deep anger,
And she listened to my tears

There was a letting go,
A certain sorrow beyond our ability to understand

There is no capacity to control these sad circumstances
And a frustration that must be released

The loneliness has multiplied
I feel even more now earth’s gravity clinging to me;
My feet unable to lift,
And move away from this place.

“I don’t know,” she says quietly, “if these words sounds hollow..
but I do love you, Jill”

At that moment, I released my breath
And exhaled my rejection.

I cried for all the things she’s said,
And all the things she never will

I keep saying to myself; “I must somehow release the grip.
I must somehow grieve my loss.
I must somehow move away from this place..”

Blaming words,
Harsh confrontations were thrown at me.
She is angry, for reasons that do not touch me.
I stood tall,
And protected myself from her blows.
“Do not be angry with me.
Do not be angry with me for that..”

I am growing up.
I will someday turn around with bright eyes and realize;
I have released the grip. I have accepted my loss and moved on from this place.

So here, have my tears.
And save yourself from the doom I will obviously inflict by your association with me.

They say time heals all wounds.
Dear God.. I hope so.

Until then,
I will “cope”
And say affirmations
And “forgive”

Until I can breathe again…





…. To be continued…

A Time for Mourning

How easy it is to place the whole of our hearts so completely in another person’s hands. How neglectful and sad to pour our souls into another’s that’s so steeped in its own sadness that it cannot help but to drown our soul in its own desperation for oxygen.

She reaches for his hand, but he isn’t there. His eyes speak of sadness, his trembling hands crumble at her touch. He caves in on himself in his sickness; he has lost the bottom of his boat, lost the life in his days. The liquid calms the teardrops, the burn coats the numbing guilt.

What can you do now? It seems that giving up is the best way for everyone. Lets all just go to bed, turn out the lights. Shhhh, don’t bother with the details. Hush now sweet one, best not to talk now, Daddy is sleeping. Unfortunately, giving up leaves a deafening silence that shatters any peace you had any hope of. The quiet hush of pain rushes through your veins like a drug, your eyes get heavy. Shhh, lets all just go to bed. Do not reach now for daddy, daddy isn’t there.

She pushes forward, shoving past the muddled mess and shattered pieces. She holds her pain like a jagged thorn, and looks the other way as it embeds itself deeper into her memories. Twisted weeds pull and tug at her limbs in a fierce desperation for her to stop. Slippery mud and stones catch her balance as she tumbles forward. Instinctively she knows the path is harsh, but she also knows that healing waves are on the other side of that dark night. Keep going sweet one, your ocean of serenity is humming sweet tunes just on that other side.

Running, running faster as the cool night air sweeps across her face, she tastes a freedom of brighter days and a freer existence. Over time she will rip away that shroud of secrecy, that veil of aching grief. The veil that gave her comfort through so many years of confusion is also the veil that hid her beauty and fierce strength, the demon that suffocated the radiance of her divinity.

Hold tight dear one, don’t give up, never let go. You may be in the heart of that dark forest of grief, but know that there are guardians, keepers of our souls that are determined and steadfast in support of you. Take a deep breath and keep pushing through. Don’t listen to those voices that pull at you to stop, those tangled weeds of doubt and uncertainty. You may not know where the path may lead, where the direction of your determination will guide you, but in following your heart you are following your divinity to its’ very foundation. You will reach a point, you will look up and see a clearing in the shroud of that thick forest covering, and you will SEE. This is where healing and peace will permeate the very oxygen you breathe.

Keep fighting dear one, the sun shines on even when the night takes over. Keep pushing through your teardrops and tender ache, and have patience. This is the year. This is the year you taste the sacred light of the stars. This is the year you illuminate your darkness.

I love you.

Let go and Fall..

I’m standing at the edge of this cliff, my toes wrap the cold curves of the stones and rocks beneath them. The wind wraps and howls around my body, the salty ocean air awakens my senses and reminds me how far I’ve come and how close I really am.


How can I explain what I am feeling now? I’m desperate to put my world into words, and hopelessly fail every time.

The misty rain coats the outside of my windows tonight. The Sears Tower is whittled down into a nub as the surrounding clouds take over the city and all it’s glory. The sights and sounds are muffled in the deep trenching rain and wind. Everything is quieted in the overwhelming noise of raindrops coating the steal and cement of the city. Everything is quiet; like my whole life.. moving in slow motion.

I can tell you that one emotion I am feeling tonight would be peace. .. and pride. I am so proud of myself. There are times in everyone’s life where you are faced with something so incredibly scary and you just KNOW that the only direction you can move in is .. forward. You can’t look back, and you can’t stop. You know that despite the fear of the unknown, there are fireworks in that black night. After living through multiple victories, I now know that above all else, I can believe in myself. No matter what happens, I will take care of myself, and I will be brave when I need to be. I’ve shocked myself lately by responding to a question with a shrug and a “I’ll figure it out”. Excuse me?? I would have NEVER said that even a year ago. This is a place where faith leads you; a place where you can trust and lean upon yourself, a place of deep peace in who you are and the life you have chosen to live. It really is a lovely place to reside in.

Through living my dreams of going to college, surviving dental hygiene school and boards, moving away from Holland and moving to and living successfully in Chicago, I have earned the titles of “faith in myself” and “strength”. All these dreams were right, all were known by my intuition, all were hard, and ALL were scary. Being scared is not an unknown or an unfamiliar territory. This by far is the biggest and scariest dream, but also the most fascinating and exciting and life changing. The degree of passion sometimes is followed by the same extreme degree of fear. That’s when you know that it will be and is already.. WORTH IT. I have surrendered. The confusion disappeared as soon as the questions fell away. I have accepted the grace of my angels and the teardrops of the demons that used to haunt me at night.

My whole world is about to change. Everything that I’ve worked so hard for is disappearing and appearing at the same time. One chapter ends as another begins. All the comforts that I relish in are fading into nothing; my job, my car, my family, my savings… my home. It’s all about to disappear, and all I’ll have is .. myself. It’ll be me.. and the world. No buffer, no apparent luxuries.. except time. All I’ll have is time.

I’m definitely scared. I have no idea what lies ahead of me. And there is no way to prepare, no way to know what to expect, no shoulder to cry on, no hand to hold. I have no idea what to expect of MYSELF. Will I charge each day and meet it with confidence? Will I cry myself to sleep in the beginning? Will I stay until each country physically kicks me out? Or will I be ready to go home after 6 months? How will my body react? Will I get sick? Will my stomach recognize or process the extreme change in food and temperature? There is no other option anymore but to follow my Love, to let go, and to fall. I keep searching for security in another’s eyes, something that will bring me comfort in knowing I am not alone and that I will be safe. But this isn’t that sort of path that I’m following. This isn’t about safe and secure. I’ve had that, I have that now.. yet I find all I crave is the adventure.

So fall I will; I will collide fully into the depths of everything I am and morph into completely new dimensions. I will never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same. I’ve prayed and now it is time; time to let myself live this life that I have fought so hard for. It is time to fly

Thank God for CrAzY dreams....

Electricity is beating through my veins. My arms are in the air, my voice carries in song, I am dancing around my apartment. I have my ticket. I have my ticket that will fly me around the world. And the most exciting part of it all is that now I am also going to Egypt.. a place I have never even considered before. This fact brings me great comfort in my character, because when offered a chance of a lifetime, to stay in Egypt for a mere $40 more, not only did I take it, I took it with grand excitement and eagerness. I educated myself on safety for a whole 5 minutes, and then didn’t waste a second in calling him back with a holy, ”yes!!!!!” This process brings me comfort in my natural reaction, knowing that this adventure has and will continue to be more than I could ever imagine. This of course, comes to no surprise to me, I have always known this.

I call different friends; “I’m going to Egypt, I’m going to Egypt, HOLY CRAP I’M GOING TO EGYPT!!! Do you know where that is!?!?! It's in AFRICA!!” I felt drunk and dizzy in my excitement. I was then met with a quieted and calm, “cool”.

..

Of course this is the reaction. This is not their trip. They do not see the difference between Cambodia and Africa (Sorry, I am quoting someone here). And how could I expect any different? I was looking for a fever that would match my own, and was met with a cool indifference. And this is ok, this is another silent lesson and reminder. This is not their trip. This is mine. This is my sacred journey. I will be seeing these things on my own; I need to remember that no one will ever understand. I need to hold this reminder dearly and not be affected when my passionate love affair is met with indifference. This might take me a while.

I came across a quote that struck me deeply:

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” – Mark Jenkins

I read this, chills running down my body, and I start to cry. I don’t well up in tears like I usually do when something touches my heart; I start balling. Then, with my head in my hands, body trembling and tears forcing themselves out of the crevices of my fingers, I cry even harder. Years of prayers and words and dreams whispered quietly all violently flood my memory; “please help me” “don’t let me let go of this” “help me find my way” “ Lord let me fly” “let me fly” “give me the grace to see past this fear” … the same prayers over and over again for years. I see myself as a 17 year old dreaming about living abroad, then again as a 20 year old wanting start a dental hygiene movement in Greece, and then as a 23 year old dreaming of partying on the shores of Australia. I see all of my younger selves that prayed and desperately held on to this fate that seemed more like a fantasy then a reality. I hold these memories and cry with gratefulness. This is more than a dream to me. I don’t know if I will ever be able to understand or help anyone else understand what this means to me. I am so happy in crying these tears that I start to laugh. My brain, sitting back and watching this all, sends some warning messages to me that I might actually be going crazy. I laugh even harder. Today.. today is a good day. Today is the first day of the rest of my life. I tried, and I didn’t give up, and now I am going. Life is a grand adventure, and I intend on living it.

I can hear inside me, somewhere deep inside me, there is an ecstatic young girl kicking up her feet with a triumphant fist in the air exclaiming;

“YES!! I KNEW I'd make it one day….”

..

Clear Intentions

 

“To draw the most from life, you must be aware that absolutely anything can contribute to it. Inspiration comes from all directions.. you need alert antennae to sense how continuously your soul is communicating with you. The instinct that says “something is out there waiting” is valid. You stand at the pivot point between the known and unknown. Your task is to reach into the darkness and pluck out the next thing that will be meaningful.

 

Some people avoid the task by repeating the known over and over. .. Your soul anticipates what you need, and it lays out hints and clues on your path. This is the soul’s subtle form of guidance.

 

If you tune in with alertness, you’ll feel a sense of vibrancy about the thing you should be doing – it feels right, alluring, seducing, enticing, pleasurable, curious, intriguing, and challenging, all at once.

 

Wait until your intention is clear… knowing exactly what you want… is the spark that generates everything else, including the big ideas and the great rewards. .. and it depends on simply waiting. Waiting isn’t a passive act; it only looks passive. It involves discrimination… sorting out what feels right from what doesn’t. Much else is involved – anxious searching, the struggle of self-doubt, the lure of grandiose ambitions, … Eventually a clear intent will emerge, and once it does, the invisible forces harbored in the soul will come to your aid. For many people, waiting for a clear intent is so exhausting that they undertake it only a few times.. but with hindsight, one can see that the individuals who held out until a clear intent revealed itself were the lucky ones. Despite stress, peer pressure, and doubt, they had the inner strength to trust that “something is out there waiting”.

 

The best thing you can do is to go through this process as many times as possible. The fog that shrouds your soul may be thick, but it will clear if you want it to, however long the process takes…”                            - Deepak Chopra

 

 

Reading these words this past weekend, I couldn’t help but recognize from personal experience how every word rang true for me. Sentence after sentence I felt more and more as if I was reading an old diary compared to a book. Oh how wonderful it would have been to read this years ago. But I suppose no amount of inspirational words would have sped up the process.

 

How long did my process take? Well, if you count from the moment the idea occurred to me, it would have started 12 years ago, but I don’t count that. That was a dream to me, just like living in a big city and working at a fashion magazine was a big dream as well.

 

 Three years.

 

I have endured the process of  “anxious searching, the struggle of self-doubt, the lure of grandiose ambitions..” for three years. But I never gave up, and I never let the shame of changing my mind once again stop me. I didn’t let the comments of people with very little faith seduce me into surrendering. Especially from those that can’t even attend a movie by themselves, let alone move across the world alone. They make a mockery of me and my “flightiness” and I laugh at them in return. Their words are meaningless when combined with their own track record of seemingly “brave acts”. And that’s ok. This has nothing to do with anyone but myself.

 

I guess I never realized before, that I was enduring a “process”.  The anxiety, the confusion, the pain, the dreams that left me heartbroken.. it was all a process. It was my destiny. Call me dramatic it you wish, but the dreams came from nowhere, and the enduring ache that I felt when I awoke was nothing short of breathtaking. I look at this process and feel a fondness of familiarity and love. This was my process, my baby. There is no metal at the end, no solid piece of evidence of a journey endured. It is the ending of one life and the gateway to a new life. I am grateful for the years of confusion and doubt, because it entirely and undeniably makes my world trip something holy and sacred to me and only me. It truly is sacred to me. I’ve never fought so hard for anything in my life. School was a struggle but I had no doubts. To doubt yourself is the worst sickness, because you don’t know where to go and no one can help you find your way.

 

One of my favorite authors, Rainer Maria Rilke once wrote about the confusion of finding a new life. I have memorized this poem for years simply because confusion is a dear friend of mine. The poem talks of patience and being kind to yourself as you figure out your way. My favorite, however, is the ending. I have welled up in tears when thinking of this as I walk the streets of Chicago, and I challenge tear drops today as I face this new reality. He says to try to “love the questions.. to live the question. Perhaps you will gradually, without even noticing it, find yourself experiencing the answer, some distant day..”

 

There I'll be...

“I've been in Perth for about a month now and haven't been able to get work. I was told that it wasn't that difficult but the minute anyone hears that I'm on a working holiday visa they don't want to know. I've mainly been trying for office work, kitchen hand or retail work. Recruitment agencies don't seem to be that good. I've sent out so many cvs and am really trying everything I can.

 I've trained as a graphic designer at home and have different types of work experience behind me but I don't know what I'm doing wrong, is it me or are other people finding it hard as well or maybe I'm just being too impatient?”

 

Reply;

 

“It's hard everywhere... I've applied for over a hundred jobs but have only heard back from ten of them... five nos, four interviews and one job (which is one night a week in a nightclub) One refused to interview me because I had no qualifications or experience... even when I clearly had what they stated and more... I wondered if they even read my resume... One of the interviews called me yesterday and said they were impressed with me and I had almost gotten the job except the last person who was interviewed was just that much more experienced...”

 

 

THIS .. is what I’m reading. Over and over again about the jobs in Australia.

 

I’ve never been too big on the “taking risks” aspect of life. I never tried out for sports or plays. I almost went to college for Graphic Design but found out that it was very competitive and hard so I went for “safe” dental hygiene. I almost did “travel hygiene” to make a lot of money but went for Chicago instead.. where I was close to home and knew people and where it was stable (still scary but I went with a job and a home lined up). I went to community college instead of a university not because I wanted to, but because it was smart. Of course now I am reaping the benefits of that, most of my “non risk-taking” has made my life better, but like I said, I’ve never taken too many risks so I don’t know. Risks… in general.. are not considered “smart”. That’s why they are called risks. But some risks, when you are following your gut.. are brilliant.

 

“… it's hard everywhere…”

 

I leave soon. I’m giving up my life, my job, my home.. and this is what supposedly lies ahead for me. My brain is screaming at me about the lack of judgment I have on this. There is no logic to support the sacrifice I am making.  The whole point of this initially was to live what others are calling “The Australian dream”, and also what some are saying .. is dead.

 

The thing is, I can’t turn back now. What was all the fuss about then? Why have all the dreams and poems and conviction just to turn away now just because it’s getting a little scary? Isn’t this what “risk” entails anyways? What is bravery without some fear and sacrifice? The prince doesn’t just walk up a couple steps to rescue the princess and live happily ever after.. he wrestles through haunted forests and battles fierce dragons to get to the other side. And he never gives up. Once again, this is part of the deal. I keep searching the internet for someone to say, “HERE, here is your answer!! I can GUARENTEE you a job for 6 months that will allow you to live in Sydney AND save for another 6 months backpacking Australia. Congratulations!!!!”

 

But that doesn’t exist. This is a risk that I am taking. This is my once in a life-time trip. I can go and see and stay or not stay or go somewhere else or not go somewhere else. I can do whatever I want. The thing about life is you keep moving forward; you eventually make a home, and fall in love, and have a family. I want those things. But those things are also a “no looking back” investment. Once those things happen, I can no longer drop everything and move across the world. This is my chance. And I can say now, I am taking a chance and hoping with all that I am that it's worth it. As I type these words, I can’t help but smile. How can it not be worth it? I am going! I am moving to Australia. Maybe it’ll accept me, maybe it won’t. But even being out there a month, and knowing for the rest of my life that I went and I gave it my all, will be worth every sacrifice, every penny. So here I am, and there I’ll be. 

Cross my fingers, pray to God, there I’ll be. 

Building a Mystery

In this jigsaw puzzle, she holds tightly to the place where she belongs.

She fits here; her curves and arcs lock nicely into her lot in life.

It’s an understanding that is supposed to solidify with time;

A safeguarding that allows for peace and understanding of the pieces of existence around her.

Instead, after time, she finds her curves unlike they used to be.

Desperately clawing to maintain her monotony, she falls out of place to the horror of her own desperation.

Out in this desert land of diversity, the air feels surprisingly smooth on her exterior.

She tastes and smells the allure of this bold undertaking and the sovereignty it brings.

Sweet breezes of new experience kiss her eyelashes with promises of a new existence to follow.

The vice grip of fear that used to hold a violent love affair with her now slowly drips away.

Her lot fading, she fights to understand, clinging still to the outskirts of familiarity.

She holds on to something she should let go of, and lets go of ideals she should cling to,

And so causing a discouraging heartache that like a parasite, exploits her helpless vulnerability.

She anxiously forces her curves to click into her old life.

But her shape is melting away in this new environment.

The foreign landscape continues to morph, to her adoration and horror.

She turns to explain,

But no one is there.

She flips and flops from one side to the other trying desperately to still fit.

Why, oh why doesn’t she fit?

"Do you not understand?

Oh please, won’t you please understand? Let me explain to you, ….

Are you even listening?"

Maybe, just maybe she decides, she’ll wander and hop and skip throughout other lots…

She will click into the world around her, and experience life on the other side for a while..

Then she can certainly come back and life will continue on in its Disneyworld of familiarity.

But during this investigation of a new life to be lived,

The best thing possible happens,

Her sweet taste of life outside her confines of home permanently change the shape of her soul. …

And instead of squeezing into her old lot, she fits quite nicely into her new world instead.

She smiles, seeing clearly for the first time that she was cursing a dream come true.

Her fairy godmother was tipping her wand in the right direction all along,

But she just couldn’t see.

She was holding her blinders so tightly that all she could perceive was darkness.

       ...........

Time to let go now, dear puzzled piece of mine.

You are still holding too tightly to a lot not your own.

You are still damning your uniqueness.

In lifetimes before, these other pieces may have fit around you like a glove, but to hold them now would suffocate the very atmosphere that pervades your heaven.

This is a transformation that is meant to be,

For without this realization,

You surely would never go.

You would never forgo this lot in life for the quest of deeper blues and splendid curves.

You would never see.

It’s time now to take off the blinders, Dear Enigma.

It’s time to merge with a larger whole.

my world on my shoulders...

Today I decided that I needed to do a test run. I have my packing list, I have my 75 L backpack; time to see how much STUFF this sucker can pack in. I mean…LOOK AT IT!

It’s HUGE! All these people who’ve “been there done that” all say, “pack what you would need for every possible situation, for ONE day. One of each. ONE of EACH?!?! Yeah. Right. That person probably looked like a backpacker. I refuse to look like a backpacker. Gapyear.com says to “forget the hairdryer and straightener, only pack essential makeup”. Never in my life. I’m sorry, but people judge you on your appearance. You judge others on their appearance. I refuse to be walking around the romantic streets of Paris in cut-off capris and my hair in a sloppy bun because I can’t do anything else with it. So that’s that. I’m bringing my damn hairdryer. Try and stop me.

 

So this is my pack with MOST of what was on my list. What in the HELL happened??? Where did all that space go?!? (*insert pouty face here). So I took jeans and micro fleece off my list, but everything else stays, so help me god. The pack weighs 32 lbs. My whole life is in that pack. I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and Closter phobic when I clicked the waist band around me.  32 lbs may not sound like much, but I’m telling you, it's heavy.  Ok, if you were curious, here is my list.

 

I pair of shorts                                                                                                                              1 yoga pants, 1 beach shorts

1 pair of capris                                                                                                                              1 big/sleeping tee

7 dresses (two beach “cover-ups”)                                                                        1 shower/beach flops

2 night/cocktail dresses                                                                                                            1 walking flops (nice ones)

5 tops, 1 black with sleeves                                                                                          1 hiking shoes

1 jacket                                                                                                                                                1 heels                 

1 nice scarf

 

1 travel towel                                                                                                                              1 umbrella                 

1 poncho                                                                                                                              day purse/ cocktail purse

7 pairs underwear                                                                                                            1 black bra

2 socks (one thick/long)                                                                                                            1 nude/strapless bra

2 swimsuits                                                                                                                              1 sports bra

 

med kit

earplugs, flashlight, watch with alarm

toiletry bag (which is big and HEAVY)

Bug spray with DEET

 

HAIRDRYER                                                                                                                              pillowcase

Jewelry bag                                                                                                                              silk sleep sak

Electric converter +plugs                                                                                                            carry-on bag

Bag cover +lock                                                                                                                              cameras and gorilla pod

Cards                                                                                                                                                 book to read

Notebook                  travel organizer+copies+extra passport photos

 

 

How about THAT for a list!!! I have to bring that amount of dresses because they pack up small and will be my major clothing items. So that’s it, and it ALL fits.. (barely). Souvenirs will be collected at each stop and sent home when they start taking up room.

 

 I walked around my apartment with the pack on for a while. It was quite the sight to see! If I leaned backwards at all I thought I would topple over. (don’t worry grandma, I’ll be getting plenty of massages in Thailand!!) It felt like I had a very large monkey wrapped around my back. 32 lbs… 32 lbs of my life, on my back, for the next … 6 months. Hopefully after that I’ll have a place to call home in Australia for a while and can unpack my bags and put up my feet for a while. Who knows though, that could happen anywhere! The world is my oyster J

"The dreamers are the saviors of the world... Composer, sculptor, painter, poet, prophet, sage, these are the makers of the after-world, the architects of heaven. The world is beautiful because they have lived; without them, laboring humanity would perish.

Those who cherish a beautiful vision, a lofty ideal in their hearts, will one day realize it. 

Cherish your visions; cherish your ideals; cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind... if you remain true to them, your world will at last be built. 

The thoughtless, the ignorant, the lazy... talk of luck, of fortune.. Seeing someone grow rich, they say, "How lucky they are!!"

They do not see the trials and failures and struggles that these men and women have voluntarily encountered in order to gain their experience; they have no knowledge of the sacrifices they have made... the faith they have exercised.. that they might overcome the apparently insurmountable and realize the vision of their heart.

The vision you glorify in your mind, the ideal that you enthrone in your heart - this you will build your life by, and this you will become."   As You Think by James Allen (*Originally "As a Man Thinketh" )

Written over 100 years ago in 1904, this book has become my harbor, my bible if you will. Its' words ring with power and truth, and have given inspiration and motivation to the masses through some very complicated years in this country and throughout others. 

I have a love affair with books. People often ask me, "Why don't you just go to the library??". Yes, that would be wise. I thought the other day about guesstimating how much money I've spent on books, but the number would be meaningless in comparison to the insight and joy I've received from them in return. I want to be surrounded by books, I want to feel their words, dream their dreams. Books take you into another world, they can open your eyes, touch your heart. I love their smell, I love the feel of their pages on my fingertips. I've thought about getting one of those electronic books, and you can just download the pages onto your equipment and off you go! No thanks. I need to feel the weight of its words, the influence of its truth; hold it in my hands and decorate my home with its' life. 

I look forward to days and years ahead as this affair continues, and possibly a book with my very own name on it. I'm not quite sure what I'll say throughout hundreds of pages that will make it a success, but I don't doubt for a second that it will come to me. I can feel it in the depth of my cells. It's in my blood. I write every day, it's my passion; stories, craving, obsession, words, life. I want to breathe fire into my message and touch the lives of others with its' vibrant enthusiasm. I believe one day this will no longer be a dream. 

One of my patients is a celebrated artist here in Chicago and also in New York. She rid of her last name and just has one, very long, name. She is eccentric and electric and original and every time she comes in I ask her 'one more time' to explain her art. I don't really understand it but what I did understand was her definition and opinion of art. She says to me, "Art is nothing more than creating something that allows its viewers to see something in a light they have never considered before." 

"Where do you come up with your art? What is your inspiration?" I ask her. 

She shrugs and replies, "Its a deep need." 

I understand completely.

 I just renewed my lease for 90 days. I buy my RTW ticket in a couple weeks. Walking though the city I thought to myself, "My God, this is actually happening.."

I have never felt stronger about anything. This is really happening. I think back at all the years of denial and laugh. Really, when it comes to dreams, how could a spirit this strong be extinguished?

A poem I wrote about a dear friend, it is based on her at one point in her life, but it is not her. It is for frustrated dreamers. 

She sighs heavy with frustration

too tired to hold the weight of everything she is,

and everything she is not.

Her eyes search desperately for an answer

an answer that cannot be found

an answer that explains the hole she's in

something that will make it all worth it.

She buries herself in her work, filling her already exhausted mind with endless meanings

anything to drown the numbing pain.

She can feel her true self

trying to breathe through the muddled mask

she is stuck between two crushing boulders

one with empty promises of joy today

the other with fulfillment in a better tomorrow..

a tomorrow that may never come.

Easy living is a dream she's buried now

writing rules of hardship and sacrifice

Burning her passion to the ground

she settles for a life that fulfills all but her own heart.

If only, if only that was enough.

But life is all about choices.

No one ever said it was easy,

but all have said it was worth 

every. tear.

This is your life, Dear Dream

don't die by omission.

Please don't let your passion burn out.

I can see the pain in your eyes

I can feel your frustration in every teardrop.

Love your pain, Dear friend..

It is your guidance, your angel

Your pain is your helping hand

pushing you in the right direction.

Shoot for your stars, Dear Jessica

For without them, 

life is unworthy of you.

Seeing Clearly

“ I would much rather have regrets about not doing what people said, than regretting not doing what my heart led me to and wondering what my life had been like…

 If I had just been myself..”

 

I didn’t know. I saw the angry and frustrated parts of me seeping out at all the wrong times.. but I didn’t know why. Now I know why. Last night I read my diaries from the last couple years, and I really saw myself clearly for the first time in a while. I saw all the rationalizations, all the confusion, all the denial, all at once.

 If you were to come up to me and say, “Jillian, you don’t celebrate differences” I believe I would laugh in your face. I celebrate all differences… I love all things in the name of ‘different’. I love different people, I love different cultures, different food. I am ecstatic to be exploring in different cities and surroundings. I celebrate differences…  apparently all but my own.

 Last night I read my words from year after year; words that tried to figure out who I am, tried to figure out and re-shape this longing that I couldn’t ignore… but couldn’t accept either.

All this effort, all this time. Looking through all my old journals, I’ve been writing about the same things over and over again. For YEARS. … for three long years… journals that have been denying who I really am, trying to ignore my dreams and find some sort of middle ground that satisfied my longing and yet felt… safer, more logical.  Over and over again it’s the same thing… trying to think of a new dream, something less scary and mysterious. Trying to figure out the unhappiness in my life. Trying to fill the void.

  I kept searching to my own frustration for an answer that could not be found. Thinking, thinking, thinking way too much. .. And ignoring the answer that was right in front of me all along.

 “ I must be running, I have a thirst for something else, I’m proving, maybe I just want to be married, I’m scared, I’m scared. Maybe I should go back to school, maybe I should move to California, maybe I should move to Colorado. Maybe I should stay with this guy, maybe I’m asexual for not wanting this great guy in front of me. What’s wrong with me..?”

 I’ve FORCED so much life during this time by ignoring my own. Its CRAZY how ignoring ONE THING can upset your whole life that much. The answer was right in front of me for years and by ignoring it I created a whirlwind of confusion.

 “I’m doing it. No turning back now! No regrets!”

and then..

 “I’m not doing it. Its just habit to think about it. I must not know how to be content. I must be running from something… I can’t go. I should stay here and be with this man because I shouldn’t … I can’t.. “

 In one journal where I’m trying to say that I can’t go because this dream is being used to “complete” me, I say, “the travel dream pops in my head every day. But 90% of what you think today is habit. Just recycled thoughts and connections from yesterday”.

 I think it comes from being young, and from doing something that isn’t laid out for you. I just didn’t understand myself, I didn’t know why I had this dream and NO ONE else did. I felt so different that I convinced myself that there must be something wrong with me.

 The past 7 months I have rummaged the pages of facebook, judging person after person from my hometown. I saw face after face of 25 year-olds that are settled, married with children, and I have never felt so alone and different in my entire life. So I judged them for not being like me, and I judged myself deep down even harsher for not being like them. I resented my difference, deep down, unknowingly. And after trash talking them for their differences, I felt awful. It’s not in my nature to judge like that. I knew from my disappointment in myself that those judgments were not as they seemed.

 I didn’t know what I was doing, so while at the same time I was chasing a heart felt dream, I was judging it, picking it apart, analyzing it… never accepting it for what it is. It’s there. What else is there to say? It’s a deep need. The end.

 I wasn’t resentful of what I thought was other people’s judgments, I was resentful of my own. I’ve always celebrated my dreams, but I hated how alone I was in doing it. Now that I can see what actually was happening, I’ve let it go… and just like that.. the judgments disappear. I can see and celebrate my diversity and uniqueness and no longer resent it. I feel like an enormous weight has been lifted. When you are confident in who you are, you feel no need to critique others for their life choices. It took me a minute to see how much I rejected my differences, but now that I can see deep down my heartache from my fear.. it’s disappeared completely.

 I’ve always felt the same about life; that it is a grand adventure to be lived. I have a thirst that cannot be denied. The sad thing is, NO ONE was actually denying it… except me. 

A Generalization and a Judgement

I stare lifelessly at the photos flashing before me.

I wish I could say that I'm watching without judgement,

but the truth is, I'm judging every photo, every staged smile, every face staring back at me.

For months now, I've looked at the photos in shock.

Each stage passing with the hundreds of photos,

shock, anger, annoyance, confusion and now...

acceptance.

I guess it comes from the fact that I feel so strongly for my own evolution, and

I find it hard to believe so many would give it up unknowingly

I guess I grew up with these faces...and I always felt one step behind.

I didn't have a ton of friends

I didn't ever really fit in.

I didn't have that happy-go-lucky supportive family.

No fancy clothes.

No fancy cars.

I had nothing

and I felt like nothing as I walked in their shadows.

To say it didn't affect me

or bother me...

would be a waste of a breath

It bothered me

but to have fought it would be futile

Not only did I not have the money or support

I just didn't have the desire to deal with their politics

So instead I worked

and smoked cigarettes

and dealt with my mother and her religious head games.

And then I grew up

I fought long, and I fought hard

I threw away my despair and refused to take no for an answer

No fancy cars, no apartments with my BFF, no spring breaks

Work, school, school, work

And yes, I had some amazing times and I was was incredibly grateful for my life,

but it wasn't easy.

So now I'm 26, I'm sitting in my high rise in Chicago, with this amazing life that I have created; this amazing life that I've done nothing but dream about for years and years.

It is everything I've hoped for;

my family has grown, my friends have expanded out and some deep friendships have expanded deeper

I'm not quite sure why I've had to fight so hard for this life in comparison with others falling into it, but I'm here now. No more fighting.

I am about to live another huge life dream. I'm going to see the world.

I'm going to live more adventures, fall in love, 

live in Australia.

It hasn't been so easy to get here, but oh so worth it...

So... I look at these women now, women I used to look up to, girls I wanted to be

girls I thought had everything

and I judge them a little.

Didn't they have dreams??   Didn't they want anything besides marriage??? 

I mean, I want marriage too, but that comes in its own time.

Until then though.. there's this great big world to experience.

Didn't they want to see anything? Try anything? Meet anyone??

Of course life is far from over for most of us

but once the babies come... a lot of doors open but there are a hell of a lot of doors that close

I look at them, these women,

and I feel sorry for them.

Yes, they may have love before me, but I'll have that one day too. 

They never left. They never will. 

They've had their hay day. They're done. 

I just don't get it.

I stare lifelessly at the photos, and I see people that are exactly the same as 10 years ago. 

No growth. No changes. Same hair, same clothes, same lip gloss.

Call me judgmental, but its tragic. 

These women I used to look up to, are still children, stuck in their box, viewing life with their blinders on. I'm sure they judge me too, I'm very different from them and their mothers and their mother's mothers. But I'm sorry for them. 

They will never go. They will never see.

New Healing

One morning a sibling posted, "I love my mother for all she has done".

This sentence sent me reeling into pain and resentment. Bitter words and anger spewed from me as I cursed that very sentence. "What has she done but left me and rejected me??" "Screw that, piss on that.. I'll tell you what else she's done... " Bla. Bla. Bla. 

I hated my reaction as I was living it. I don't want to feel this way. I walked around my apartment, getting ready for work and desperately prayed for a way to move on from this, once again. 

Driving through the city that day in mid chorus of some random song, it hit me.. and I found the grace to see this situation in a different light. When I parked I wrote these words down; 

"In holding your anger,  you curse her rejection of you as if it were her own, as if she had a choice. The only choice she had was 20 years ago in her deep sorrow, finding a path that gave her peace. This path is also one you rejected and has rejected you in return. Your rejection of her life has given you yours. Because you left, you have lived dreams and expanded beyond recognition. The tragedy of this story is not in a mother rejecting her daughter, but in a controlling, all consuming religion separating a family. There cannot be a middle ground here. She has no choice but to give up her entire life or give you up (and vice versa). Initially you rejected this religion, it and she did not reject you. She runs from you because she is an incredibly sad mother and her guilt does not allow her to recognize you in the most allowed and relaxed settings. The only thing worse than "hate" is indifference. Let her be. This separation has nothing to do with you. Give yourself a rest. To take this personal is the worst sin of all."

Encouragement from Liz

I have decided that it is time to re-read my very favorite book, "Eat, Pray, Love". 

In all areas of my life, I am so incredibly focused and organized... until it comes to reading. I read handfuls of books at a time, and then half-way through them, head to the bookstore to buy more when I already have an impressive stack of unread books waiting for me at home.

 Anyways, this is off the subject. I am re-reading this book of adventures because I somehow have lost my way on "confident and excited" street and am certainly finding myself here on "I'm so nervous and scared" boulevard. Its like I'm listening to a record that's stuck on repeat and an unable to get up to change the disc. I am relieved though, to tell you that my resolve still is stable and conviction unwavering. I'm just... well.. nervous, and scared. So... a here's a little "your about to experience the most amazing time of your entire life" CPR. 

Here is a very long but funny page from "Eat, Pray, Love" that so completely makes me feel better. It's like Elizabeth Gilbert is saying, "I feel ya kid, its gonna be alright."

"Truthfully, I'm not the best traveler in the world. 

I know this because I've traveled a lot and I've met people who are great at it. Real naturals. I've met travelers who are so physically sturdy they could drink a shoebox of water from a Calcutta gutter and never get sick. People who can pick up new languages where others of us might only pick up infectious diseases. ... People who are the right height and complexion that they kinda look halfway normal where ever they go- in Turkey they just might be Turks.. in Mexico they are suddenly Mexican...

I don't have these qualities. First off, I don't blend. Tall and blond and pink-complexioned, I am less a chameleon than a flamingo. Everywhere I go but Dusseldorf, I stand out garishly. ... 

And, oh, the woes that traveling has inflicted on my digestive tract! ... I've experienced every extreme of digestive emergency. In Lebanon I became so explosively ill one night that i could only imagine I somehow contracted a middle eastern version of the Ebola virus. ...

Still, despite all this, traveling is the great true love of my life. I have always felt,... that to travel is worth any cost or sacrifice. ... I feel about travel the way a new mother feels about her impossible, colicky, restless newborn baby- I just don't care what it puts me through. Because I adore it. Because its mine. It can barf all over me if it wants to-I just don't care. 

Anyway, for a flamingo, I'm not completely helpless..  I can make friends with anybody. I once made friends with a war criminal in Serbia. .. If there isn't anyone else to talk to, I could probably make friends with a four-foot-tall pile of Sheetrock. This is why I'm not afraid to travel to the most remote places in the world, not if there are human beings there to meet. People asked me before I left for Italy, "Do you have friends in Rome?" and I would just shake my head no, thinking to myself, but I will"

Yes, Elizabeth Gilbert, I shall read your book to knock myself out of this self-imposed worry wart virus. Change your perspective and you change your world. 

The really great thing is this; the universe is giving me nothing but a giant pat on the back. I am getting the most favorable, kind and excited words from all those I talk to. My hair dresser, my insurance agent, the guy who changed my oil... they all light up, grinning ear to ear, declaring, "WOW, you are going to have the most amazing time, meet so many people.. I'm so happy/jealous!!" I definitely can't complain that I don't have love and support from even the most distant of strangers. So thank you, world, for your comfort and reassurance! 

Now, back to you, Elizabeth. 

a BIG year.

Tomorrow is my 26^th birthday. Life is not where I thought it would be when I turn 26. I think maybe I assumed that I would be so grown up, so settled, married. Instead, I am doing the scariest thing in the world for me.  The past couple weeks I have been more scared than excited. The time has come to renew my lease for the next year, and I’ll be renewing it for a couple months only. Now, now it is getting serious. I am so scared. When you are this afraid, you feel trapped. I can’t seem to get out of my thinking into the bright happiness I had before.

 

But the thing is… I know this is part of the deal. I know there are going to be scary times, and elated times. I understand and accept that being this afraid makes it that much more worth it. Being afraid means I am real, and that this is a big deal.

 

I am not one of “those” travelers. I am not a hippie, I don’t go with the flow. I am a type A personality; I plan and organize and analyze. I can’t go to a street vendor and eat the food and NOT wonder if it’s clean. I don’t have a stomach of steel (quite the opposite). I am responsible, and educated, and cautious. And now.. I am about to embark on a trip that will force me to “go with the flow”, and put myself out there, and be afraid. This trip will literally be the death of me. I will never be the same. It will take who I am and stretch and expand and morph myself into a bigger and brighter soul.

 

I have written this before; this dream has chosen me more than I have chosen it. This is meant to be. If my grandparents were here, I’d probably cry on their shoulders. But as I sit here feeling the fierce magnitude of my life, I don’t change my mind. Not even for a second. I have taken this journey and have accepted my assignment. And as much as I feel unequipped, I have other compelling qualities that are the sound reason for any confidence. I am strong. I am cautious. I can make friends anywhere. I am organized, and therefore can plan ahead and wont put myself into a bad situation. I have a sense of adventure that has run through my veins since childhood, and an independence that cannot be denied. I have the most supportive friends and family then anyone could ever ask for. I am not soft spoken. If someone messes with me I will NOT take it. I have money, and money makes the world go around. I have a credit card that can get me back home at anytime, from anywhere. There is nothing to be afraid of, I am well equipped. I am obviously talking to my fear here, but already I feel better. I will make it through this fear. I will make it through this fear. Life, like a pendulum, always swings both ways. For months before this fearful period I would cry tears of happiness and feel excitement screaming through my veins. Each time I make it through, I am stronger. The fear means that I am not romanticizing, I am not in la-la land. I understand and accept the pros and cons of this adventure. The biggest pro of all, though, is that I am living a dream. This is my life’s gift.

 

A quote on my fridge:

 “This is why we need to travel. If we don’t offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull. Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder. Our eyes don’t life to the horizon; our ears don’t hear the sounds around us. The edge is off our experience, and we pass our days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting. We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days.”  Letters to my Son by Kent Nerburn. 

Sweet Dream of Mine

I haven’t been writing much lately. I guess my writing has always been a way to release my anxiety and a way to figure out the confusion in my heart. This is a confusion that no longer exists for me. I get up every day with a resolution now, with a confidence that pushes me onward. There is no backward stepping now. This dream that has felt uncertain and unusual is now a reality.

Tonight I went for a short walk through my city, my home. I listened to songs that for years gave me the strength to make it here and are now a tribute to this life and the confidence I hold knowing I can do anything I put my mind to. One song in particular has held a special place in my heart. I listened to it on repeat to get me through my toughest college days. Every word I believe in, every word I’ve repeated like a mantra and a prayer.

The Story doesn’t exactly fit mine, for reasons that don’t need an explanation. But the chorus, those words are words I believe more than I can express. Life is too short to not take chances.

“The Chance” Julie Roberts

I found a book that my mama kept

Filled with secrets she hid

And in a dusty old attic, one mornin' I read

About a woman I never met

Who had dreams just like mine

With every page that I turned, her words came alive

Wish I could roll out of town like a run-away train

I'll do as I dare, let them call me insane

I'll never sit on the sidelines of life, I'll dance every dance

If I just had the chance

A tear fell on that faded page

'Cause this was somebody else

Not the mama I knew who never thought of herself

But the times, they were different then

And lines just didn't get crossed

And these words that she wrote, they somehow got lost

Wish I could roll out of town like a run-away train

I'll do as I dare, let them call me insane

I'll never sit on the sidelines of life, I'll dance every dance

If I just had the chance

The chance that she never had

Is now the gift that is mine

And out here on this road, I'm makin' up for lost time

Yeah, I am my mother's child

And tonight in this car

I've got her words in my suitcase

and dreams in my heart

As I roll out of town like a run-away train

I'll do as I dare, let them call me insane

I'll never sit on the sidelines of life, I'll dance every dance

While I still have the chance

I'll never sit on the sidelines of life, I'll dance every dance

While I still have the chance"

Years into living this life here, I still look around like a child and smile. I just can’t believe my life. All my long held dreams are a reality, all my years of hard work are paying off ten fold. Hell, they are paying off 100-fold. I am so grateful for all the sad days and the dark days, because now my peaceful and abundant life mean that much more to me. The help I received to keep my debt down is the biggest reason why I am financially able to live this new life just months away. I am so grateful for the love in my life, for the bravery that is now kissing my daily existence. There is no more fear, just excited anticipation for the adventures around the corner.

 This decision to do this is my life’s greatest gift, a decision that I anticipate will be most grateful for when I am settled. There will be no regrets, no speculation as to what my life would be like “if only”. The people that have passed that journey before me only have amazing things to say; only encouraging words and “that was the best year of my life”. I thank God every day that he has taken away my fear, that I never gave up in the face of the overpowering and almost devastating insecurity I used to suffer when considering this path. I couldn’t forget about it or let it go, yet I couldn’t imagine doing it either for more than a few weeks at a time.

Now I’ll have this life of my dreams. To live life with no regrets, that seems like true freedom to me. To survive this life through facing fears and breaking your barriers is the liberty that angels sing about. It’s not easy or a short-lived endeavor to come to this summit, but to have arrived literally brings tears to my eyes. And isn’t that truly living? To “live to the point of tears”. (Albert Camus)