I choose this morning. To simply be still.
I took a ferry ride just because I could. I had nowhere to go. No purpose in riding it through the Puget Sound… I just wanted time. Time to be still. Time to read and write… to listen…
My day was going to be perfect. It had to be. Because I started it off by taking care of myself. Following what I thought I needed.
And here I am…
(I started this post the Sunday before Christmas and am just getting around to finishing it)
That day really started off beautifully. It doesn’t matter how it ended. What mattered most about that day was that I felt at peace, if even for a moment. I was comforted by the unknown of everything around me… the people, the place, how the rest of my day would happen…
I was trying to finish a book called Off the Map, when I saw them. They were perfect in every way possible. And how ironic that I would run into their story as I was reading such a tale. I do not know where they were from and I’m sure I didn’t know where they were going any better than they did, but they were here… and I envied them. They were just like Kika and Hibickina, in my mind at least, and I wanted to be a part of their adventure… or maybe I just wanted the freedom to start my own.
My own adventure… What does that look like? I could do lots of things with my life. But what? Where do I start? Why have I not begun these adventures? Is fear keeping me from something I want to be, do, see? The Who has been answered. That is me. But the What, When and Where remain a mystery. I don’t know where to start. I think my biggest fear is regret. I don’t want to be 70/80 years old wondering “what if” or kicking myself because I didn’t do something I wanted to because I was afraid or lazy or whatever! I need movement. I’m tired of feeling like I’m just wandering around… I’m tired of it.
My own adventure… What does that look like?
“We all have our own borders. On one side is what’s easy, what’s known, what we’ve been told is true and have taken for granted; it’s comfortable here, it’s familiar. But the other side is wider than possibility, it’s brilliant with potential, and it looks like our dreams, whatever they are… Big or small, these are not the “dreams” we’ve had handed to us, good job/big house/new car—-these are real dreams, real fragile fledgling dreams, which is why they’re often so frightening. But they’re ours, if we can find them and hold them, if we can catapult ourselves across whatever border of fear or doubt or tiredness seems to keep us from them. In the end, the only thing standing between each of us and what we most want, is ourselves. We’re our own border guards. And sometimes the crossing is easier than expected.” -Off the Map