A part of my daily routine is emailing Kristin and sometimes in the course of these emails I have epiphanies. It's been like that in the five years we've known each other and in the thousands of emails we've exchanged. She's part of my posse of friends who, when they ask me how I am, I can honestly say.
I feel a lot of peace this morning, which is good for me since I've felt so restless lately. Why is it that I get that way sometimes? It's this yearning for adventure, for change, for something more, bigger, to push myself, to require more...
But what if that adventure, that change, that something bigger is THIS moment? And what if, just what if, in my search for more, I'm missing the more that exists right now? What if I'm so focused on the end result (of getting somewhere) that I miss the point of the journey? What if the point isn't to get there, to arrive? What if the point is today, tomorrow? What if it was yesterday and I missed it because I was so consumed with the next day?
What if I'm exactly where I need to be?
There's nothing wrong with my life. It's good, actually. I have a job that has served me well. I have a community of friends. I have people who I'm positively influencing. I have the ability to have my dogs and puppies. I have an amazing home. I have ideas, I have passion, I have things I want to implement.
So perhaps the problem isn't getting into a (figuratively) new place. Maybe the problem is me. I feel whispers of conviction that I'm not putting into action the things I want to (feel called) to do, and I'm making excuses. "I can't do that because I don't live in the right part of the country." "I can't do that because my house isn't big enough." "I can't do that because I don't make enough money."
But what if I can? I haven't even tried. I think I need to start trying. I think that my heart will always feel this restlessness until I start living the passion I have inside, until I'm vulnerable enough to say: this is what I'm doing. I'm going to exist in the sphere of influence I have in this moment.
I can't wallow in what I don't have, or focus on where I'd rather be, because I'm getting the feeling that being here is exactly where I'm supposed to be right now.
Alright, this email has ended up in a liberating direction I wasn't expecting, but I'm very thankful for you and you helping me by listening. I couldn't do this life without you.
And because she is the friend she is, she replies:
...I think you're right, sometimes you just have to dive in. And act. Stop making excuses. Right now. In this moment. For this moment. And, yes, things will change eventually, but this moment is part of the journey too.
I love your perspective. I love your heart. I love your calling and passion and talents and desires.
My journey is about this moment.