Picking the Scarier Path

Two dirt paths, each exciting in their own way. They began at my feet, but ran off in completely different directions. Both disappeared into clouds of mist. Unsure of which way to go, I was lost in that mist for a very long time.

One trail took me home to Alaska; bringing me to the place I love more than life and where I can find the only two things I love more than Alaska – my nephews. I would finally be home.

The second way led me somewhere new; a place I’d never been before and where I knew no one. It would mean the lack of a safety net and the very unlikely reality of success.

~*~

Put starkly like that on (virtual) paper, the answer seems obvious. I should go home, where I could actually be part of my family. I could witness my nephews’ lives and they could know me. I would have a safe space at my mom’s that would allow me time to get a good job and start creating a more solid, permanent life. Most of all, I miss Alaska. It is the only place I feel complete and I want to be there every single day.

Still, I just could not shake the knowing that I would be returning home without proving what I set first out to prove (to myself) when I left Alaska seven years ago. I can’t quite put into words exactly what that is, but it falls somewhere along the line of bravery and adventure and taking risks. It meant never having to wonder ‘What if…’.

I went round, upside down and sideways in my head for months trying to work out which path should become my road, and it wasn’t until a few weeks ago that I really listened to what my heart was saying. Then I did, and I had to admit that it didn’t matter how many good, real reasons I had for Alaska. There could be hundreds, together equaling 99% of the driving force behind my decision, but that remaining 1% would be because just going home was easier, safer and less scary. I would have gone home because of fear and I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

~*~

So I’m going to Washington. I know people who live there, but not any (to my knowledge) in the city I’ve picked. Bellingham is about 1 ½ hours north of Seattle. It’s right on the water, near mountains and has clean air. There is a ton of hiking trails, many waterfalls, and three independent bookstores. Also, it has a lot of coffee shops. I’m going to try to make it my new home.

I have enough money to get me there and afford a place for five weeks. I’ll give my absolute best to find a job and a more permanent place to live, but I know I face the very strong likelihood that my best might not be enough. 

Fear and terror do not even begin to describe the swirling tornado that’s existed inside me the past couple weeks. I am nervous about my car making the trip. I've been worried to tears over how Faelina will do. I'm terrified that I will end this journey with no money left in my bank account. I am facing the very real possibility of failure, and of the people in my life knowing that I failed. About once a day I get the sensation that the safe, solid ground I’m standing upon has not only become Kjeragbolten (that big rock in Norway), but the rock has finally slipped from the mountain’s grasp and is taking me with it. It's a hard sensation to come back from. And yet...

“…Every choice feeds every choice that comes after, whether we want those choices or no…”

I read this line in ‘Every Heart a Doorway’, the first of the fantastic Wayward Children’s series by Seanan McGuire. My mind and body gave an electric jolt when I first read them, because they so simply expressed what I was afraid of most.

~*~

Three years ago, I was confused and so unsure of what I wanted. When my best friend offered me the chance to come live with her I agreed. In part, it was because I loved the idea of being able to see Stephanie more than a couple times year (if that), but it was also the easier, less frightening alternative to picking a state where I knew no one. I don’t regret that decision but I also didn’t want to continue down a path wherein I always chose the easier option. Doing that turns a decision into a pattern and then a habit, one that becomes increasingly hard to break with each successive choice. Washington my not work out, but I'll at least know that was brave enough and capable enough to go for it and doing so will feed into future opportunites to chase after new adventures as they arise.

If I can't find work, I should have just barely enough cash to get me and Faelina home. I'm ok with that alternative. Like I said earlier I miss Alaska. I miss my nephews, and there is a big part of me that despises myself for choosing me over them. I have to do it this way though, because I can't live with myself forever wondering and I will not live a life driven by fear.

*~*~*