Two Weeks' Notice

I've officially closed in on that special period of time people like to reserve right before they make a big change: Two Weeks.

It's a little funny as I think to myself that I've basically waited an entire year to get to this point, and here I am now, down to the last few days, with so many things I have yet to get done. But aside from rushing around to finish packing up my life's belongings and to clean my almost-empty apartment, there's also a kind of mental preparedness I've been focusing on as I get ready to say goodbye to parts of my life in Ohio.

My whole plan became the most real when I gave notice to my employer at the beginning of December. Up until that point, it was all just an idea in my head of something I might do, or had considered doing. I discussed many possibilities with my mom, sister, and close friends, and spent quite a bit of time in my head dreaming up scenarios in which my plan might or might not actually work. When it comes down to it, I have no idea whether it will work or not, and I'll never be able to find out for sure unless I try. Which is terrifying to a person who always likes to have even the smallest of details planned out ahead of time.

When people ask me if I'm excited, I readily reply, "Of course!" And then continue on to explain that I'm also equal-parts terrified. I'm walking into a big unknown, staring lots of questions in the face that don't really even have answers on the horizon yet. Yes, that drives me crazy, but also makes me feel a bit more courageous about myself. Sometimes when I think about what I'm doing, I want to look in the mirror and shake myself, asking "Who are you?!" But then my reflection and I talk about it a little more and reach the conclusion that maybe we're just now getting closer than ever to finding out the answer to that really difficult question.

When things started changing in my life over the past two years, I pretty much closed myself off and retreated into a pattern of hibernation. I tend to do that whenever I'm struggling internally with something, but honestly, it had gone on long enough. I wasn't going to come any closer to who, what, and where I was supposed to be. There were too many occasions of trying to step out of my comfort zone with only one foot and then retreating. I had exhausted myself completely by way of my own fear -- of change, of challenge, of starting over. The fear part is acceptable, but only if I'd make the decision to stand up and face it rather than always choosing to hide. 

No one can fully find a fulfilling life by giving in to what holds them back. That was a decision I had to make: be safe, be comfortable, and keep hiding... or let that all go and be brave, be daring, and start living exceptionally well. 

I'm in for a lot of hard work on the road ahead, especially mentally and emotionally. It certainly won't be dangling one foot out of my comfort zone, it'll be taking a huge leap and leaving the whole thing way the hell behind me. Parts of me even want to run from it and never look back, to stay focused on what's coming up ahead rather than what's falling behind me. None of it really matters anymore anyway.

In its own intimidating way, the unknown is kinda fun. Turns out it's okay every once in a while to not have things exactly planned out and to let myself be surprised a little. 

I connected with Ellie Goulding's song Anything Could Happen, because it's true: no matter what you think you have planned out, it could all change in an instant. I feel like I'll be singing this to myself a lot when I'm out wondering the streets of New York, and maybe even smiling a little bit, thinking what good things could be waiting for me just around the next corner.