I've had many crossroads in my day. Some are just that: a road that has led to choices, the leaving of one path to walk another, and though it can be daunting, sometimes even a bit scary, it’s nothing compared to my usual method of instigating change: a great blind leap into the abyss.
Today began as more crossroad than abyss. I'm not dangling over the precipice, toes dug
in, as I teeter on the brink of my next adventure, not concerned with consequences,
heart pounding as I anticipate the rush of change before I jump.
No. Today I'm standing in the road, able to look in all directions over a
prairie-flat world to the distant hills, too far for me to see over the
horizon. I know what's at my back though, and that's why I find myself here, in
this place, as the wind mourns around me, dust devils whisper through the
grasses; the soft sounds in this bare landscape make me feel lonely, unsure,
not a feeling I want or need right now.
I met my realtor for lunch this afternoon. I was fine while we were talking,
eating, catching up. Very business-like as we discussed the financials over
tea. Firm in my resolve about certain conditions that aren't negotiable from my
end. We finished our meeting, said our goodbyes, plans set in motion over the
next few weeks for photo sessions, marketing strategies, agreements made on details
great and small—then driving up the mountain back to the house it hits me: I've
taken the first step toward my new life. I'm at the four corners of my destiny,
three ways to go: left, right, or straight on till morning. Back is not an
option--that's where I've been, not where I'm going.
As I turn down my street, the crossroad visual flashes into my mind. I feel the wind, smell
the dry grass as I stare, shortsighted, trying to pierce the unknown land ahead. My heart begins to pound, not in eager expectation
of change, but in a stuttering panic of uncertainty and doubt. I pull into the driveway and sit for a
minute, taking a few deep breaths as I rub my hand in soothing circles over my galloping
heart, striving for calm.
It takes me a moment or two, but okay, I get it: Yes, I might indeed be standing at a crossroad,
but once I make the choice, pick my path and step out, the abyss will most
assuredly crack open at my feet, yawning and beckoning. Am I ready to take that leap? Feel the exhilarating shift from the old to
the new? Welcome it?
I can only trust the compelling nature of change will eventually overcome my reluctance. When it's time to move on, you just have to put one foot in front of the other until you stand on the edge, ready and willing to jump.