I moved, again. I picked up my life for the fourth time, between two states. I let the signs from outside myself, and the voice within myself, lead the way. I didn’t have the answers, but I’ve come to know the feeling. The feeling that no matter how much you want to stay some place, it’s time to move. In doing so, everything get shaken up, and honestly? It never really feels good. I wish I could say that when you feel something is the right choice it feels good, but if you’re a deep feeler like me it comes with so much more.
Twenty years ago when I first witness the loss of a young girl to cancer, I found my calling and myself all in one. I learned that life isn’t fair, but I promised myself at that time to always live life fully. I promised to be brave, to take chances, and to go after that which calls me. I made a promise to let my faith be bigger than my fear, for all those who no longer get the chance. So amidst these changes that feel hard, I fall back on this. And I’m thankful to where it’s gotten me.
This move has been hard. I am lost and found and so confused, wondering how I got here while also knowing I’m in the right place. For the first time in many years, I don’t feel like I know what my future holds and it’s terrifying. I feel as if I’m following blind faith, but I’m learning to find joy along the way. I’m learning that we don’t have to have a plan to be headed in the right direction, and sometimes the most unexpected places are those that bring us the most joy.