A ridiculous amount of coffee was consumed in the process of building this project. Add some fuel if you'd like to keep me going!
I Lost Myself to Gain an Experience
Sitting at the Juneau airport, I’m holding back tears.
My heart is a mess and it’s not because I’m leaving.
I get this way sometimes
Most of the time I love it, but there are hard moments too.
Times of loneliness, feeling lost
grieving the home and family I don’t have to go back to.
I’ve heard it said before that people are not happy without choices.
But also, people are equally as unhappy with too many choices.
Perhaps this is my issues.
I have the whole word!
Perhaps if I just pick a place and go, this restlessness will release me.
these past few months in AK have taught me a few important things.
If you had asked me six months ago, I would have said yes.
Any location, any adventure, I wanted to experience it all.
This is no longer the case.
I have learned about who I am, but more so who I am not.
I have learned that there are places I thrive more greatly than others.
Also, I am not always brave
and I am not always strong.
I have weaknesses, I make dumb choices, I fail.
But this is something I’m learning not to despise myself for…
“You are doing just fine”, I tell myself over and over again.
I lost myself.
I lost myself to gain the experience.
And though it happened unintentionally
It will not happen again.
I hate the idea of having a calling.
I hate the notion that there is one specific thing that we were created to do.
Isn’t being human enough?
Isn’t to learn and love and connect our primary reason?
There are however things that do call to me.
Dreams, ideas, excitements, higher frequency I want to reach.
But some of these things are scary and involve a lot of risk.
A risk that, up until this point, I have been unwilling to take.
For the past two weeks I have been applying for new job positions.
One in HI, one in Greece, one crewing on a boat in the Caribbean.
They all aligned with what I want to learn and things I want my future to hold.
But they are not the burning in my heart, or the pit in my stomach.
People sometimes call me brave.
I don’t feel brave.
To be brave is to risk for love, to do the shit that scares you most,
to spill your heart out on pages for the world to devour.
Ive been letting mine drip, like slow faucet leak.
Ive been calculating my fall, instead of stretching my wings
Tonight I sent three emails declining the positions I thought I wanted.
I guess this means I’m choosing my heart instead of a location.