Worry gets along with very few, but the ones with which it does is rarely let off the hook. It’s my 63rd day in a year and it’s already a challenge keeping up with the changes that threaten to outnumber the stars in the sky.
As I prepare to let go of a place I had not just worked, but gave five years of life to… I am overcome with emotions that threaten to derail my sanity. Skipping down the road with a spring in its step is worry holding hands with its buddy, fear.
a) What now?
b) What am I going to do?
c) Did I make the wrong decision?
I remember a conversation I had with a friend who had quit the same job long before me. “What’s difficult getting used to is how slow the time passes by. At work, everything was a whiz. So to get used to a schedule where I could keep a tab on every second was disconcerting to begin with.”
As I strike the dates on the calendar until I don’t have to anymore, I feel like I am crossing the intersection with a blindfold. It’s frightening to move ahead in life when one doesn’t have a definite plan of action, every act can seem fearful and suicidial. And that’s perhaps why I am devouring what Ruth had to go through.
The anticipation of the destination is far more delightful that sailing through stormy, treacherous waters. As I hold my breath and get ready to dive in, I am holding on to the picture of what I’ll see when it’s all over.
And I am letting go of the urge to control.
And the dive into the deep unknown will be worth it.