A week has passed since I set out on my cross-country journey. On the eve of my departure, I felt more panic than excitement. Was I really leaving everyone/everything I knew behind? My plan seemed to lack sense and reason. By the time we reached Missouri, those thoughts were far behind me, along with most everything else that had previously defined my existence. I was a free spirit out on the open road.
Some kind of miracle occurs when you set yourself up against a notion you'd always thought impossible. Moving away from home was that notion for me. I was the one who pledged to always remain behind. And I did, in a way. I side-tracked my entire life because of silly fears and a simple lack of faith in myself and my capabilities.
A friend who lifts you above those misconceptions is a friend you keep. Friends who supported my every desire were never in short supply, but I've only had the fortune of meeting a handful who challenged my apparent complacency with life. They don't nod as you complain about a rough day. They'll rarely offer to hold your hand. But they will place two hands firmly on your back and push forward with just enough force to make you stumble forward. It's amidst the stumbling, when you're grasping and reaching out for any sense of stability, where you begin to see who you are. Sure, you're going to get cut and burned along the way, but few experiences will better uncover your strengths.
The purpose of the fall is shown only by how you make your landing. I quit my job. I made conversation with an old couple in the middle of Kansas. I drove 2,400 miles to ensure myself a fresh start, checking a little emotional baggage at each state line. People so many miles away would have no power over the happiness of my day anymore. I find peace on the streets of San Francisco. It seems impossible to already feel at home, but I do.
I think this is happiness. I think this is when I meet the right people and don't waste time on the wrong ones. I think this is when I stop being mean as my way of being nice.
This time and place--this is where it begins again and where I say "thank you" for a friendly shove in a new direction.
