New Horizons

It's now been two and a half months since Jack (my dog) and I moved to Miami Beach, FL.  I like it here - and Jack seems to really enjoy it, too.  

But, for all intents and purposes - I must admit: 

Moving here was one of the more difficult things I've ever had to do.

In Texas, I had a home, my own yard, a romantic relationship, lots of fun things I liked to do and great friends.  The idea of starting over in a new place was so incredibly daunting to me - I didn't see where I'd find the strength to do it.  And, honestly, I was fearful.  Blame it on watching one too many episodes of CSI: Miami - but, my mind would immediately jump to the dangers of being on my own in such a large city.  But, work called - and I really didn't have much of a choice in the matter.  I felt afraid - backed into a corner - without any options.

I would constantly beat myself up, saying things in my head like, "When you were younger, you were so much more adventurous - what's the deal?  Why are you so scared to move, again?"  After all, I had moved to London - on my own - when I was 22.  But, I think there's something innate about growing up - and resisting change.  Like we start to establish roots in one place, and then we're afraid that if we're transplanted, we'll shrivel and die.

I expected the worst - and that made moving all that much more scary.

I kept asking myself, "Where's your sense of adventure?  Your courage?  Why are you so fearful, now?"  But, looking back, now, I see that courage is so much more than a lack of fear.  Courage is having fear - but, pushing past it and doing what you're afraid of, anyway.  Breaking through your own self-doubt - and stepping forward in faith.  So, I'm much gentler to myself, mentally, nowadays - and I'm quite proud that once again - I've lived through "starting over" - and have found some semblance of happiness on the other side.

I'm 29, and I always assumed I'd have my own family by now.  I envisioned a life somewhere deep in the south, with a home, a dog, a loving (and doting) husband, etc....etc.

My life is a far cry from that dream, right now.  And, yes - my heart does ache for that.  I think it's only natural that I want to belong to someone - someplace.  I, too, want to feel as though my life is a positive contribution to this world.  And, being a wife and mother is so often what we equate to being a successful woman.  By leaving Texas, I felt that I was moving myself further from that end - and that's what made me cry.  That's what made me fearful.  

But, I'm slowly making peace with the fact that I'm "not where I thought I'd be".  And, I'm starting to understand that perhaps "that" life isn't what God intended for me.  Maybe I'm not meant to be a wife or a mother - maybe I'm just meant to be a worker, a writer, a dog-owner, a sister, and a good friend.  At least, it seems that's all I'm meant to be right now.  And, really - I'm okay with that - because it takes all the energy and focus I have to manage those things.

So, I float my little boat out on the ocean of life - and I keep looking for my island to appear on the horizon - the one that sings to my heart "you belong here".  And, faithfully, I believe that if I keep pushing past the fear - something joyous and beautiful awaits just beyond where the ocean meets the sky.