So, it occurs to me, on this little adventure of mine, that there’s not much that I encounter day to day that scares me. I suppose that’s part of the problem, right? I don’t find myself in passion-filled, life-affirming, adrenaline-pumping situations all too often. But that’s a limited view of what should scare a person. I’ve always been more afraid of the depth and breadth of my emotions than eating something weird, or exploring a new place (but heights- no. You will not find me cliff-diving or bungee jumping. Nothankyounope.).
In the hopes then, of exploring the undiscovered country of my mind (yes, English majors I know I just used Hamlet’s metaphor for death to describe my mind. Hush), I put out a couple of feeler emails about meeting with some therapists. Maybe that’s too personal, but it’s my blog, my rules. I’ve realized with the relationship transition I’m currently in, I’ve got a few self-destructive patterns to which I’d very much like to wave bye-bye. It’s nothing life shattering, and I’ve certainly done a LOT of personal work trying to figure my shit out, but I want to be ready for whatever comes next. In my 32nd year I want as little baggage as possible, because I plan to travel.
Which leads me to the fun, non-scary thing I did today: booked a flight to London! I’ll be back in one of my favorite cities this October, this time showing my mom and friend around. I haven’t been back since 2009, so I expect to find the city changed, but also, the same- it’s been there since before the Romans, some shit remains the same. As I was booking the flight it occurred to me how little I’ve traveled, especially internationally, in the past few years. I was establishing my career, I was graduating from law school, etc., etc…. well my career feels like it’s etched in granite lately, so no more excuses. I want to travel more, I have money to do so (if I’d quit fucking blowing it on cocktails and Uber…. maybe that’s a real thing that scares me…. #realtalk).