Taking the next step is terribly frightening, yet has that touch of exhilaration entwined. For over ten years I went to work and put in my eight hours, everyday. As the years blended into one after the other I found myself getting tired of waking so damn early. At first it was 5 am for a 7 am start, but for the past 5 years 4 am was my wake up call. My life became rote.
And because my life turned into a predictable landscape, I forgot to step into the world. The comfort of everything being right there waiting for me to follow through was secure, easy, and eventually numbing. That comfort changed into a subtle vise grip that was slowly choking my wunderlust. And all the What Ifs faded into the background that should have been with me every step I took to my present moment now. Instead it was a shadow only seen from my peripheral vision. There but never really in focus.
My predictable life was draining who I am, who I was meant to be. Perhaps, I had to live the way I did for this moment. For this time when turning on my computer opened me to the world. I guess, subconsciously I was waiting for technology to catch up with what I needed so long ago. The freedom of sharing thoughts and emotions to strangers that may understand, even disagree with what I have to say.
Ten years ago I went to work at a job that helped pay the bills when I was starting out from University. It was supposed to be temporary and ended up ten years later.
Now, I don't have this job anymore. And in the span of fifteen minutes, I was given my termination papers and cleaned my work space I was done. For ten years wearing stuffy work boots, and waking too early I said goodbye to the few people that were there, knowing I wouldn't get the chance to say goodbye to friends that came into work later.
The chain that tethered me to predictability, safety, and numbness wasn't the mediocre job I lost. It was me. My willingness to just be and not live.
So, I left ten years that filled my life as I stepped into my car and drove home. I turned on my radio and drove the opposite way, speeding down the highway. It was strange, like I was doing something wrong that I should be going in the other direction. I turned the music louder and sang to a catchy song before I suddenly burst into tears. I cried for a few minutes and just as suddenly as it started it was done.
I did this one other time when I finished my first novel. I was sick to my stomach and I cried. I was filled with unexplainable joy and deep fear and sadness. A dream I pursued was done, finished and I didn't know what to do.
And when I drove home from my last day of work I had that same gut wrenching fear and wild exhilaration. My predictable safety net was gone, taken from me. And now I could fall. But I had the chance to take that next step into me. My second chance to build my life as I see fit. I become the person I was meant to be. To not only be the dreamer, but to live the life of the dream.