Did you ever notice the tagline for my blog? “Do one thing everyday that scares you.” ― Eleanor Roosevelt
I really want to embrace it, but quite frankly I am a scaredy cat. I can come up with every excuse to let myself float through life–some are often quite valid. But floating through life leaves me with a nagging sense of emptiness.
Motherhood has enabled me to be a bit more brave. In February, I got this harebrained idea to attend Making Things Happen. What does harebrained even mean? So on a whim, and perhaps one too many glasses of wine on Valentines, I decided I was going to North Carolina in the middle of March. Okay, it wasn’t really a whim. I’d made spreadsheets of the potential costs figured out flights and whatnot and applied for a scholarship I didn’t end up winning, but deciding to actually go was still very much outside of my usual methodology. Eric was onboard and willing to try his hand at full-time daddyhood for a few days. I made arrangements and was set to go. If nothing else, I figured, I would at least get a bit of mommy vacation.
After I registered for Making Things Happen, I kept myself up all night with tummy issues from the anxiety of going away and facing my fears head on. I was scared. Petrified would be an even more accurate description. What the hell? Didn’t I want this?
So here I was electively deciding to leave my “comfortable” existence, and wee baby, and I was making myself sick. Makes perfect sense, right? But in spite of the uncomfortableness I knew I wanted to change. I was tired of sitting in the “I’m gonna, when…” and then not doing it. You know?
This is where the story gets interesting. I went and spent two long days with some pretty awesome people. I learned so much about myself. Things like what is currently working, and what is not. I heard a lot of sweet southern sayings. I even indulged in some southern specialities like: pimento cheese, biscuits, sweet tea, and fried okra. Yum!
Then, I came home to dirty diapers, a bored kiddo, bottles to wash, and the hum drum of everyday. I braced myself for the disappointment I expected in realizing that in spite of all my desire and hope, the things I wanted to change were never going to change and perhaps I’d wasted the resources, time away from my family, and effort I wholeheartedly put into my Making Things Happen experience.
Amazingly, that isn’t the case. This isn’t to say I came back my perfect weight, making my ideal income, and all of my worries went away. None of that happened. But I did come back a little less afraid of the things I once feared, and with an amazing group of accountability and encouragement to keep me moving forward on the things that matter most to me.
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