A lot has happened recently. I signed the papers to list my house, I paid off the Jeep, and I wrote the notice to quit my job. I continue to sell or give away belongings and prepare my home for sale. I made some medical appointments to take care of health business before I transition my coverage. I am standing at the precipice of one of the most significant choices/changes of my life. I am giddy with excitement, yet scared out of my mind.
Why did I not turn in my notice you ask? I wrote it, read it, and got scared. Fear reminded me that I was leaving a good paying job with great benefits, that I would no longer have an actual and reliable income. I would be vulnerable. Fear tightened my chest, brought the “what if” parade through my head, and gave me pause. Fear sucks. Fear is the enemy! But, fear has a loud voice and, at times, a purpose.
So, I took pause. I got up from my desk and took a little walk. Being at my job right now is possible because I can see the end. Doing my job each day is bearable knowing that it will be over soon. It is getting harder and harder to stuff myself down and pretend that I am this “work” person. That which is the truest part of me is starting to leak out. Fuck you, fear, you have to go! Not just fear, but I have to go. I must leave. I must. This person that shows up every day and does this job is not the true person that I am. I have to bring these sides together, I have to coalesce that which has fragmented. I have to become “me”.
I decided to give myself the weekend, as this was happening late on a Friday afternoon, to contemplate, pray, think and get more settled with the job notice. I wanted to reach deeper into that fear and make sure this was not healthy caution or some other warranted warning. Err on the side of caution sort of thing. OK, one day will not make or break me, this process or my goal. One more business day does not change my exit or current status. I can wait one more day.
I currently write this entry during one of my favorite times. It is early morning, still mostly dark as the sun only begins to rise. I have my tea, the fire is crackling, it is still and quiet. My twinkle lights are all plugged in and the candle is burning. These are the times I cherish, these are the times I love. These are the times when, at camp, I would write. I replicate this scenario nearly every day when I am on an adventure. Well, except when it rains. Then sitting outside with a fire was not really a thing. But, moving forward, I will have the ability to sit inside my tent, still with my tea, and write. During those times I will have the noise of the rain on the tent fly to soothe me. I do like the noise of rain as it pitter-patts around, creating a cacophony of sound, of nature, of life.
That scenario, waking up at camp with my tea and writing, is one of the reasons I am doing this. THAT is why, I tell myself as I continue to remember the last time I was at camp. The chill of morning, the sun breaking through the trees, sometimes a breeze, sometimes the sounds of the creek or river. Waking up because I woke up, not because my alarm went off. Writing because I had a lot to say, because I have a lot to feel, and because that place, those surroundings are where I want to be. Feeling more like myself than at any other time or in any other place. For me, that is camp. That is home.
I remind myself, again, that I stand at the precipice. The sun has now crested over the hill and is shining on me. I sit here on my couch (should be sold this weekend), in front of the fireplace (in the house I will no longer own). I am wearing the lounge pants I will donate, but the t-shirt I will keep. OK, there is all that. But, one day soon, I will wake up somewhere knowing all I need I have with me, and that my most precious of belongings are safely tucked away in a locked storage unit. Knowing that I can spend my day however I choose, I can hike and explore to my hearts content. I can do that for as long as I want, where I want, and to the extent that I want. That freedom I have talked about, written about, craved, will be mine.
I will no longer fit a mold someone else made. I will no longer bite my tongue or hold back my opinion or input or ability to choose. I will no longer stuff down the creative, thinking, motivated or energetic part of myself. I will no longer perform redundant tasks that suck the life out of me, or sit and gaze longingly out of a window at the sun, the wind, the rain, the heat or the cold. I will be IN those elements, IN that weather, smelling the air, feeling the wind and sun and cold. I will be IN my life! No longer lived from behind a desk, from my living room, or from a place of discontent or fear. I will, literally, be the captain of my soul and the maker of my experience. This will be all about me. The whole me, the real me, the most authentic me.
Wow. Let me ponder all that a while.
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