Two years ago this blog began with a post about moving. I remember the day pretty well, sitting amongst boxes and seeing how one little life can be packed away in a car, so small and so quaint. I had little to my name. I still do. But as I find myself sitting here in a similar scene, with boxes and clothes strewn all around me, this day feels very different than that last one two years ago.
I’ve crossed the desert, and I see the world through different eyes. I look back and know that I have been refined by my experiences. I used to fear change. Anxiety would seize my heart and I would question everything, wondering, mulling, over whether the next step I was taking was the right one.
I don’t know where this next step will lead. Nor do I know for certain whether it’s the right one. It feels like it is… so much that I would have once deemed it so with confidence. But I can read through countless pages of my journal and see that not every gut feeling is prophetic. All I know for certain is that I’m not afraid, and that perhaps is the most liberating feeling I’ve ever known.
I have spent my entire life questioning fate, exploring lore, and trying so hard to understand what is real and right. But through that life, I wore fear like a winter coat, afraid of failure’s bite. I feared tomorrow, the “what-ifs” and the unknown. I feared for my soul, of becoming someone I didn’t want to be.
I don’t think I will ever stop asking questions or prodding the Great Mystery for answers I may never find. But somewhere along the road I realize I have discovered something greater.
A beautiful thing lies ahead. My heart is so full of excitement, anticipation, and curiosity. I’m moving back to my home state of Florida; a goal I had made to myself while I was still in college over two years ago. A second book sits on the screen in front of me, reminding me that this dream of mine is only beginning. And a man that reminds me of the fantasy stories I’ve been writing all these years lingers in the back of my mind, forcing a smile to my lips more often than I’d like to admit.
I don’t have any preconceived expectations about what life will be like for me this year. Although there are feelings and hunches and hopes, I have learned in my 24 (almost 25—eek!) short years that it’s best just to take life as it comes and see what unfolds.
You see, I spent so long trying to figure this life out, only to see that I had been missing it. The beauty of life is right in front of us. The adventure? Never truly knowing what comes next. As a writer, I’ve come to yearn for that adventure.
And I’m ready to experience wherever the gulf winds take me.