When It's Time for an Adventure

Last December, my graduate program of nearly two years came to an end.

I’m now three months into unemployment dressed up as freelancing, and the determination I once held so firmly has begun to wear thin.

Come to think of it, I’ve never really had a long break in my life. I graduated from high school, went straight to college, studied abroad, spent five years moving through internships while preparing for a career, and then ran straight through eight years of office life. A one-month sabbatical after five years of work, and another month spent recovering from surgery—those were the longest breaks I ever had, and even they hardly felt like rest.

And then, once again, I threw myself down a new path, carrying both fear and excitement.

Because I didn’t want to be trapped inside an office building.
Because I wanted to live a life of my own design.
Because maybe, in some vague and fragile way, I was running on hope.

As I ran, I kept repeating the same spell to myself:

Build a foundation that will let you live fully as yourself. Even if you are cold, hungry, and afraid, don’t rush blindly into just anything. Even if it takes time, even if it means living a little lean, endure it. Hold on, and build a life with your own name on the sign.

The fierce two-year race is over, and now what lies before me is a wilderness with no end in sight. The spell I had memorized so carefully keeps losing its power. Pointless worries and anxieties—perhaps even a grasping kind of desire—keep shaking me.

Should I just take whatever comes?
No, this is what I said I wanted to try.
But still, don’t I need that “whatever”?
Do I? Don’t I?

I watch myself being swept away by thoughts that crash over me like waves, and I find myself both ridiculous and a little pitiful.

Then my husband said something that pulled me out of the water and set me back on solid ground. His words put roots under me.

“I’ll take care of the stable work, so you should be the one to have the adventure.”

Right.
That’s why I started running toward somewhere new in the first place.

Adventure means stepping into the unknown. It comes with risk and pain. But it also brings unexpected kindred spirits, and rewards both great and small.

It has now been three months since this adventure began. And honestly, I haven’t even left yet. I’ve only been circling the starting line, worrying foolishly. But now that I’ve put down roots, maybe it’s time to sprout. If I keep growing slowly, quietly, and steadily, flowers will come. And maybe, if all goes well, there will be fruit too.