"I've gotcha"

"Fearlessness with peace," my mom reminded me. "Remember what the skunk means?"

Skunks have been a crazy intimate part of my life for about 17 months now, and they've finally driven me out of my Cottage. *insert sadness here* While I'm lamenting the loss of my home, and humored that I lost the battle to skunks, my life coach is informing me of the significance that skunks represent. 

Fearlessness with peace. Steady with efforts. What you do emanates outward. Teaches willpower. An awareness of when to move and adapt. People will naturally notice you.

I had no idea the skunks had an important message. 

Four months ago, there were so many reasons not to accept my friend's invitation to Kenya. 

Money. Job. Vacation. Dogs. Health. Risk. Fear.

There were so many reasons not to launch VoiceBox Media. 

Money. Job. Vacation. Risk. Fear. My obsessive worrying about details that didn't matter. 

But then I decided to take a small step. Dip my toe in the water, if you will. I started talking about my idea. And the idea became a bigger idea until it was bursting at the seams and I had a choice to make: kill it, or take the next small step.

Four months ago I was sitting in a friend's living room tallying up all the reasons I shouldn't go to Kenya. Don't get me wrong. I wanted to go so freaking bad. 

But was I ready for that step? Did I have what it would take?

I consulted my mentors.

You're going to Kenya. 

Forget dipping the toe in the water. That takes too long. I decided to dive. 

I can only calculate risk for so long before I have to jump, and trust. I can only run through so many scenarios in my dizzy head until I have to relinquish control, and trust.

When will I learn?

I was shaking my head at myself yesterday over that very question. An unplanned sequence of events had me irritated and flustered, but led me exactly to where I needed to be at exactly the right time - not a day too late, not a minute too soon. 

When will I get that despite my planning and obsessive studying of the calendar, shit's not really under my control?

I've seen it happen again and again with my four-month-old-project-that's-been-in-the-making-for-13-years. You'd think I'd get it. 

Everything happens for a reason.

That's my motto. It reminds me not to sweat the small stuff, and to appreciate the big stuff. To let go of some things and to trust. Usually these moments hit me when I'm driving at sundown and I look over or ahead of me to see the magnificent sunset, and I hear a couple words whispered into my soul: 

"I've gotcha."