Being Afraid

I went to a concert with HG last night. For reasons soon-to-be discussed, we spent an exorbitant amount of time talking. During this time, he became the first person I have admitted to that the idea of moving to Seattle is terrifying.

"I thought you were excited," he said.

"I am excited," I responded, "But at the same time it's terrifying to move across the country with no family, no job and no reason to go there except that you want to."

"Why would you do something that terrifies you," he asked, honestly perplexed.

"You're not really doing anything worth while if it doesn't scare you. I want to do the things that terrify me," I replied. "How can you really live if you're not doing the things that could crash and burn, because they're the same things that could enrich your life immeasurable."

I'm still not sure he understands. I took up rock climbing because I was afraid of heights. I scuba dove in the Great Barrier Reef because the fear of sharks and breathing under water nearly paralyzed me. I don't do the things I fear because I fear them, I do them so that I don't. I do them so that I can live. I want my life to be an adventure. There is rarely adventure on the paved path.

Here's to getting muddy and being afraid.