i’m nervous as shit to jump states.
five months before the leap and my anxiety level is in the stratosphere above everest. the more i try and control the feeling of being afraid, the more my subconscious squeezes at my spirit like a hand clenching putty.
facing the questions speeding my way regarding the forthcoming move have felt a little like daggers, little stabs at the vision of my future i’ve had for a decade.
last week while riding on bart, my heart rate sped up, my breathing felt labored, the train felt smaller and filled with more bodies.
more bodies breathing the air i was moment by moment realizing i needed more of.
each approaching stop made my final destination feel further away despite the fact that i was moving closer.
my chest was feeling tight
i started to wonder if i was going to be in the wrong train at the wrong time.
was something going to happen here?
a train wreck?
a person with a gun?
panic was setting in and i knew it was coming.
but then, north berkeley bart faced me with open doors and i walked out.
i went up the escalator
i walked out of the bart station
and i smiled as i saw the car
of love an support
waiting there to pick me up.
hugs and laughter.
for the family that brought me back to reality, i’ve decided to face the questions and begin planning the answers.
i’ve told you i’m nervous.
but have i told you that what i’m most nervous about is not following the narrative i set forth for myself even before high school?
i’m scared to death at the thought of giving up on the story of my life i wrote in 8th grade. the one about moving mountains, being independent and powerful, and having followed my dreams.
i was just like every other kid who believed i could and WOULD change the world.
until writing this out, moving meant the abandoning of my dreams because it didn’t fit the narrative course i’d imagined years before.
because that narrative didn’t involve me loving another person, it didn’t involve me giving the support, time and space necessary for another being to grow into the potential they imagined for themselves back in 8th grade.
in the next five months, as i question:
what will i do there? how will i find friends? how will i make money? will i be able to find a routine that is conducive to managing my diabetes well? and will i be happy?
i’m going to keep in mind that allowing a new narrative to unfold, one in which i am the type of person who would risk everything for the greatness of another, is a more beautiful tale than i ever could have imagined.
i am going to affirm my heart’s path by bringing my thoughts and awareness to the fact that what i thought up for myself in this life i have already accomplished and i’m moving beyond it.
i AM moving mountains.
i AM a strong individual, powerful enough to make seemingly self-contradictory life decisions
i AM living my dreams right now.
i’m showing my 8th grade self that the narrative i had back then was reaching only for the clouds, and that now my sights are set on the galaxies far far away.
i’m getting more than i’d bargained for and the adventures ahead are only exponentials beyond the scope of my vision.
i’m on the right path and it feels good to remember how much i love that truth.
move onward, my friend, onward.
Okay I’m all caught up now. I read your post where you explained your big move. Haven’t known you for very long, haven’t met you in person either but from the few interactions we’ve had, I can see you are a sweet and wonderful person. Sending big hugs! You are amazing! 😀
There’s no way you can script out your life from the beginning. Life is full of adventures and miscues, challenges and surprises. If everything went according to “plan”, life would be pretty boring, wouldn’t it?
I hope those last few lines were about saying what you believe … not trying to believe what you’re trying to say. Because you really CAN move mountains. Or maybe cacti. Neither is easy, but you’ve go the ability and the desire to do it.