"It's all happening. I'm on the precipice of a life beginning to take a meaningful shape. A life I created from the very thread of my lofty and lionhearted dreams."
I wrote that in my last post, and as I begin to embark on this journey, as the dream begins to really materialize while I sit amid boxes and a menagerie of things acquired over years of living unconsciously, it strikes me as strange that I feel no different. Friends have shed tears as they talk about my "leaving" and I try to feel the weight of this decision, but it never sets in.
On the one hand, my lack of emotional response could be that I'm too overwhelmed with taking multiple trips to Goodwill, finding yet more boxes, and generally getting things in order. Or it could be that nothing about all this is strange at all. This is the direction in which I truly was always headed all along; I simply hadn't realized it.
My happiest memories from childhood are my summers spent at sleep-away camp. Four years ago I went to the Bahamas for a week by myself. A couple years ago I took on hiking and backpacking. A year ago I took a trip across the Western US with a bunch of people I'd never met. However, it never occurred to me, until this summer, to take my passion for the outdoors and adventure and make them my living.
So of course, even as I begin to embark on what could potentially be a monumental turning point in my life, I feel completely unchanged. My outside world is changing, but I'm not.
No matter what. I know I will grow.