Early mornings

I wake up with dreams still swirling around in my head, retreating to some far off corner of my mind where I can no longer reach them. I settle into the present moment. The early morning sky is still fast asleep, dark and quiet. My current situation begins to sink in, to feel real, and almost immediately a tidal wave of questions, doubts and uncertainties come flooding in. I know I should learn to be comfortable here, to appreciate the possibilities that come with the unknown, but at times I'll admit that it can be paralyzing. If I take one wrong step in any direction, maybe I'll screw up. Again.

Ever since I was little, I carried with me this love of adventure, of challenging myself to take risks and grow. There was no fear associated with the unknown but instead a thrill of what could be. And as I've gotten older, I've come to realize that for better or worse, I rarely understand or see the consequences of taking those risks, of trying to be that person that embraces change over comfort. I take the leap with my whole heart and once I land, everything's unearthed again. The comfort and stability I had—or thought I had—shifts, leaving me with this glaring hole of doubt that burrows uncomfortably deep. I do everything I can to fill it—and whoa man, do I fill it. I depend on my job and those around me to patch up the void, to make that sense of emptiness feel less real. And it works for a while. Hell, I can fake it better than I want to admit.

But soon enough, it catches up with me. And I have no choice but to face it, to sit in it and acknowledge the discomfort and doubt. It's a lonely place to be. But perhaps that loneliness serves a purpose. It has to. I suppose sometimes we have to force ourselves to really see where we are, what we feel and what we believe, and we need to do that in a space that's not cluttered by busyness, work, people, whatever distractions we teach ourselves to lean on. By allowing ourselves to be lonely, or rather to embrace solitude amidst the discomfort, we enter a rare place where we can ask big important questions and hopefully, eventually, give ourselves real, honest answers.

I think back to a quote that Brene Brown included in Daring Greatly. She writes:

"Only when we're brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light."

The sky outside my window is slowly beginning to stir. The midnight blue mass gently starts to fade to indigo as the day inches forward to light. Lying here, I feel it all. And I don't know what comes next. But I'm teaching myself to be brave, to know that each step forward is just that—a step in a direction where I can begin again. Who knows if the choices we make are right or wrong in this life. But if we can trust ourselves and our own strength to embrace whatever comes, then maybe the adventure in its entirety is worth it.