The jumping is done but ... there’s a pebble in my shoe.
A small ever present niggle.
If I walk the right way I can push it off to the side. Pretend it’s not there, ignore the frustration it causes.
I act like it’s not rubbing on me, slowing me down.
Like I can run freely despite it’s presence.
These little rocks of expectation, whether perceived or real, sit in my shoe.
The thought that I am not enough. That who I am is too much.
Who am I to say ‘wake up’ when I feel like I’ll always be on a journey of becoming more fully alive?.
Who am I to say dream when there is so much I’m yet to do?.
When I am not enough or too much I know it’s because I’m afraid.
Afraid people won’t like me, afraid I’ll say the wrong thing, afraid I’ll fail and fall.
All of me is like a parachute I’m too afraid to open.
I have jumped head long, the wind whips at my face and I am rushing headlong into a new reality, the thrill of it running through my veins but I’ve forgotten why I jumped.
Just pull the damn cord, open up, show the truth, fly a little, enjoy the view.
This is about perspective, this is about seeing where I’m supposed to land and surveying the space before me.
There are mountains to cross, homes to build, people to feed, love to be given.
If I didn’t jump I never would have seen it all.
If I didn’t jump I’d be stuck in the smallness of my old space.
If I didn’t jump I wouldn’t have felt the wind wake my soul again.
If and when it’s time to land, I hit the ground with that pebble in my shoe, it’s going to hurt like hell.
It’s going to be all I think about instead of what my eyes have been opened to.
Limping to my destination is not an option, so the pebble must go.