I’m following my heart and doing what feels best. And sometimes that means being far away from a lot of the people that I love and the people that love me.
It’s not always an easy thing to be away, but there are all kinds of love in this life and I feel beyond lucky to have people in mine whose love will remain while I go in search of the other kinds.
***
I haven’t been in one place for an extended period of time for a while, and I have wondered if maybe I was afraid of staying put—of things getting stagnant. Truth is, I think I was afraid of being happy for long periods of time. Let me explain.
I haven’t posted in a while, but that’s not to say I haven’t been writing. What I have written is: a lot of half things, a lot of mediocre things, a lot of work things, and a lot of things that feel too personal to share. I also got into an odd habit of writing really obscure things. Sometimes a poetic way of saying something is the best way to say it, but not always, and I found I had begun writing in a way that started to make no sense, even to me. I think I was afraid of what I was trying to say, as if saying it would cue some sort of voodoo—you know, notify whoever’s job it is to mess things up when they’ve been too good for too long.
And that’s when I realized, don’t we all get that way sometimes? I can’t be the only one?
It reminds me (please excuse the volleyball reference) of when you are peppering (keeping the ball up), and all of a sudden one of you starts to realize that it’s been going on forever, and your lip start to curl, maybe you laugh, all while trying to maintain focus on this thing. You’re juggling a ball in the air and the simple acknowledgement of it going well is what averts your focus, is what ends up being the downfall of it all.
I wonder, too often, if it’s possible that it’s the same in life. By noticing that things are going well, can I, for lack of a better word, jinx myself?
There were a few moments in the past year where I felt this way.
Were things too good? Was there a shoe that was bound to start dropping? Do I deserve this? (Hello imposter syndrome) Is this really where I’m supposed to be? Surely I must need to move on to the next thing by now?
And then, as if by some perfect miracle, I found myself in a very wonderful situation that allowed me to be somewhere new, living a life with a component of constant change, yet also remaining in the same place for an extended period. I was blessed with a dream job opportunity in a beautiful city different from my home, in a role that never gave me the same challenge twice.
I found myself toggling between feelings of thrill and comfort. Thrill, due to new experiences and unfamiliar surroundings. And comfort, due to encouraging experiences and consistent surroundings. I oscillated between anxiety and calm—sometimes hourly.
I found myself a tiny ounce fearful of an unrecognizable life, an unexpected stillness, and an uncertain future. And then in my very next thought, came a small gram of relief and a pinch of laughter expelled from my body, because wasn’t that the very life my heart craves? I know myself well enough to know I thrive in off-the-cuff situations, ones that challenge my thinking, put my problem solving on the spot, and encourage creativity and spontaneity. I am the first to admit that deep down I don’t love an uncertain future, but through some unfortunate—or blessed, depending on which way you look at it—uncertain past events that didn’t always go my way, I have had the pleasure of learning to live with this uncertainty. Yes, this unfamiliar combination of feelings is terrifying, but that was the kicker for me: I have been able to thrive because of precisely that reason. Terrifying, for me, has become synonymous with challenging, and boy do I love a challenge.
So, whether it’s a dream of mine altered beyond my control, or a love that goes unlived, or learning to stand still for longer than my spontaneous soul wants to, I will approach it with the same open and empathetic heart that has gotten me through everything that preceded this. What I think I am trying to say is, I understand why too much stillness seemed scary. It was just unfamiliar. And then, as most unfamiliar things are, they only seem scary until you’ve lived with them for a few months, and then they become a regular part of your life. That once dark street becomes your walk to work, that once intimidating guy becomes your quiet neighbour, and that once bloody gash becomes a faded scar and a funny story.
Don’t judge a new feeling by the first feel. Feel it a few more times before you judge whether it’s good or bad. Sit with it and ask it questions. Ask it where it’s from, and why it’s here. Chances are, it belongs here just as much as the rest of them, and you should probably welcome it in with the same open arms you do with other familiar feelings. You just might be surprised at what it could teach you.