Leap of Faith

As I sit here at home, half-heartedly tossing random objects I think I might need into my two gigantic suitcases, the wave of excitement at what is coming repeatedly washes over me. In its wake is also a lot of apprehension.

I cannot imagine what I am about to experience; this feeling of exhilaration is akin to free-falling. I look at my packing list, thinking: how on earth can I prepare for this? I'm about to be plunged into a completely different world where I know only some of the language, where I know only a handful of people, and where I know nothing of what I will encounter. Then, the inevitable: what the hell am I doing?! 

I'm leaving behind so much. What rational person would choose to risk a safe, comfortable, life for the unknown? Who would leave behind friends like Liz and Teresa, who take the time out of their Friday night to call me and tell me they miss me? Friends like Abbey, who texts me inside jokes on the daily, and Nicole, who eagerly awaits my next appearance on campus. Friends like Connor, who puts up with my overly-emotional texts having to do with The Walking Dead and emails me clips of Battlestar cast members appearing in other shows. How can I leave behind Jacque, a true bestie through and through, and live without Ricky's sarcastic quips? And how can I leave Erin, who magically obtained a framed, signed picture of the legendary Kara Thrace for my birthday? I can go on for hours, reminiscing about Avatar marathons with Colin, Collin, and Brian, heartwarming chats with Cline, Chinese class rescues by Ian, and random messages from Jessie, but you get the point: to those of you who have touched me--and we both know who you are--I'm insane for leaving you. 

I believe that every one of us has a specific purpose that we need to fulfill in this world. Call it fate or calling, but every person on this planet is unequivocally unique; we each have a set of skills given to us. It is up to us to figure out what they are and how to use them for the better. The hardest part is not knowing. But it takes us time to realize that, in fact, we know how to get there: we must follow that tiny voice in our heads. Our passion. Act as you feel is right. Pursue your passions, and you will be led down the right path: believe it. It's the little string tied to your pinky that is tugging you to the place where you need to be. 

I suppose the thing that keeps us from going along with this is fear. We hate to admit it, but we're afraid of the unknown. It terrifies me. There is so much to lose, to be afflicted with when we venture out, and so much to risk. Those who know me know my fears, and what I've gone through over the past years. These fears are paralyzing, and keep us pigeonholed into choosing the safest option. 

But with time, I realized: giving into this fear is laying down my defenses without a fight. Living as though you are a time bomb is going to make for a miserable life. It would be letting that obstacle control you, and prevent you from living your life. Fear is a hypocritical mechanism; it attempts to keep us alive but prevents us from truly living. It would be a falsity to say that I am not afraid of all the risks I am taking. But being brave and courageous isn't about not being afraid. It's about standing up to those fears, believing in our own ability to overcome our challenges, and pushing forward. Always pushing forward.  

I am now pushing forward. I'm delving into the unfamiliar, the unknown, and even the scary, but in the process, I'm going to learn a few things about the world and about myself. I'm going to grow. I'm going to make new friends and maybe some enemies, many mistakes, and some regrets, but that's part of life. I will no longer stay hidden behind the sheltering pillars of the ordinary. Every person who has ever made a difference in this world has stepped out from their shadows. I want to make a difference. I have to take that step, that leap of faith, and trust that, somehow, I'll land on my feet.

What the hell am I doing? In the end, I'm not sure I can answer my own question. That is the most frustrating part. If there was a definitive yes or no, it would be easy. I suppose I need to find out for myself. 

What I do know is that there's a tug at my pinky. I'm going to follow it.