It's easy to forget the risks we're taking.
I wake up every morning and go to a job. Every. Single. Morning. I'm on day 18 of working without time off. I sit in an office Monday through Friday, often by myself, and on the weekends I'm playing hostess at a local restaurant.
I've stopped needing an alarm. I naturally wake up an hour before I need to get out of bed, sometimes two. I try to find sleep again, but usually wind up lying there with my thoughts. I remind myself to be thankful that I woke up at all.
I mostly wear business casual clothes I try not to loathe. I miss my jeans and t-shirts. I microwave frozen meals at lunch time because I'm too lazy to cook enough food at dinner to have leftovers; and having a favorite Lean Cuisine makes me sad.
I always find time to squeeze in a daily workout, either pulling my body out of bed first thing in the morning or right when I get home from work. The hour of jumping and squatting and lifting and training calls out more thankfulness. I have a body that works.
At night I sit on the couch with my husband, dinner, and a drink watching Netflix - feeling like I should be doing anything but binge-watching episodes The Office.
It's my nature to seek out routine because it's safe, and I'm far too responsible for my own good most of the time. I feel I'm merely existing; every day a repeating loop to a mellow beat, "Your. Life. Is. Boring."
I know I'm not the only one who does this, especially when you've had a taste of your dream life. And I am thankful I even had the opportunity to experience joblessness by choice and nomadic living. But now, life seems too vanilla; too safe.
Except, it's anything but.
We are living risky.
Mat began a business venture at the end of last year, we invested a sizeable chunk of money, and it's beginning to take shape. He's being recognized in the community; people want to know how they can be a part of it. Starting a business is scary, and hard, and sometimes it feels like we don't know what we're doing or why we thought it was a good idea. My husband is self-employed. That's not safe.
I'm tackling The Discovery Project with equal seriousness and lightness, re-wiring my thought patterns and experimenting with new ways to connect with myself and God. I'm writing my experience into a book and I asked for help funding the entire process. There is nothing safe about asking for help or stripping away your entire belief system to get to the core of who you are.
Everything we are doing - the mundane work to pay the bills paired with the risks of business ownership and creative writing with the intent to publish - is to get us back to life on the road, in a constant state of travel. I'm learning that the plan sometimes requires stillness and dedication, where risky meets routine dressed in slacks and button-ups, so you can achieve a shared goal.
And tasting the dream is often an affirmation that the dream itself is possible.
"You have extraordinary treasures hidden within you. Bringing forth those treasures takes work and faith and focus and courage and hours of devotion. We simply do not have time anymore to think so small."
Elizabeth Gilbert, BIG MAGIC
The known is always safer than the unknown, but it's not always the most exciting, and it doesn't always call you back to your purpose. To those of you - our friends and family - who have been supporting us near and far, with your words and sometimes even gifts, we will never be able to thank you enough. Without your encouragement to Mat in this business venture and me in my book writing, we likely would've thrown our hands up and done something really safe - like go back to work at a church.