Two years ago this week, Maile and I moved our family into my parent’s basement, and I began the tenuous venture of trying to write for a living. So much has happened since then, but when I looked back through my journal of that week, this entry caught my attention:
And so it begins. My writing life. This is the time I have been waiting for. How long will it last before Maile and I run out of money (a valid question, I think, no matter what your faith level . . . or perhaps a sign of disbelief, I can’t decide). Although at this point we are already out of money so I guess we don’t have THAT far to fall.
It feels good to be here the cafe, to let the words spill out for a while…Word after word begins to emerge, and suddenly I realize it is okay, the world is turning, the words are coming, and they won’t stop. They won’t. Honest.
I keep monitoring Maile like a doctor monitors a patient doing better than they should be doing. I keep thinking that if I’m not careful I will turn around and she’ll be emotionally flat-lining, in cardiac arrest, suddenly overwhelmed by the realization that we live in Lancaster and, after this weekend, will not be returning to Leesburg. There are many friends there, many faces I will miss seeing. We have not burned any bridges, but it is a long bridge and one we will rarely cross over.
“What am I doing?” does occasionally echo in the recesses of my mind. There are moments of panic where I begin to think I am totally insane to believe I can make a life this way…But when those thoughts come, the only thing I can do is write, write, write, let the words keep spilling, splashing, let them run out on the lush green grass and form pools and small ponds and then the rains come, overflowing the banks, rivulets pouring out, forming small fissures, and then, deeper, a river runs.
I have been thinking quite a lot about the last two years. Something my uncle told me during those first few months sticks in my mind: “When someone makes a decision to leave the beaten path and do the thing they’re passionate about, it’s like all the forces of nature and of God come behind that person and carry them along.”
Well, two years later and we’re still being carried along.
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Have you ever made a crazy decision to step away from a predictable life? Do you want to? What gave you the courage to do it, or, if you haven’t yet, what’s holding you back?