Thirty-seven was the year I took a rock in my hand, a rather large rock, chucked it up as high as I could, and let it plummet into the still waters of my life. Up until this year, every decision I had made for my life had favorable conditions. They were calculated, productive, but most of all comfortable. I don’t think I have ever made a decision for my own good that I thought would be uncomfortable.
Risks, sure. I bought a house and risked my financial stability, but I knew I could pull it off, because I planned, plotted and budgeted. I got into relationships, risking my overwhelming desire for independence and alone time, but I knew, if I had to, I could step away from the commitment before it got too serious. I’ve traveled around the world to places I romanticized (Japan) and places I never thought I’d go (Nicaragua – thanks Carrie!). Traveling comes with its challenges, but let’s be honest, it’s damn fun and you learn a lot. I busted my ass and wrote a novel and lost a ton of weight, but those decisions were for my own enrichment and involved discipline and commitment, not fear of the unknown.
What was always been a question mark for me was the possibility of living on my own outside of Seattle. I’ve thought about teaching in Japan, New Zealand and Hawaii, but never made the move. It’s because I was always afraid. I was afraid to leave my family and friends. I was afraid I’d miss out on some moments of life that never get old – birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and several other family/friend traditions. I was afraid that the loneliness would be crippling, and I’d experience new depths of emotional challenge that I wouldn’t have to just weather, but wrestle with, struggle with, and conquer. Most of all, I was afraid, and still claim as my deepest fear, that someone I love will pass away in my absence. Forgive the morbidness, but it’s probably the biggest mind-f*** of all on this trip.
But here I am on Maui with no friends or family – only acquaintances. All those fears are now realities, except the latter, thank God (though in the last month, there have been five significant deaths around me, including one of my current sixth grade students). So, I consider that rock I threw into the air and allowed to land in the still waters of my life, and I ask the question, was it worth it? The answer is, O so painfully, yes. Not a day goes by that I don’t long for home and my loved ones, but I believe this longing, with the myriad of other life lessons I’m acquiring in my experience here, will be the ripple that make me the better man I wanted to become when I made this uncomfortable decision.
Here’s to you, 37. You turned my world upside down, but are teaching me that I can be right side up if I just adjust my point of view.