It’s Friday. My working week is over. I’ve just had a hot shower; I feel clean and refreshed, and now I’m settled in on the couch in comfy clothes. And I’m thinking about change.
In a couple of months, there’s going to be a big change in my life. It’s exciting. It’s terrifying. This change is going to affect my life in ways I don’t even know yet, and I’m looking forward to it more than I think I consciously recognise. It means opportunity, and experience and probably a bit of good old fashioned adventure. It’s the unknown, but in the best possible way.
But this change has a bitter-sweet edge to it. It means letting go of a dream I’ve held on to for a very long time. It’s probably one of the hardest things I’ll ever do, especially because it means so much and remains so important. On one hand, that makes me sad. It’s the one thing that scares me about this whole thing. But on the other, I know that letting go does not mean giving up. And believe me when I tell you I’m not giving up. No, it’s simply coming to the realisation that now just isn’t the right time. And in recent weeks, I’ve realised that perhaps there never will be a right time. So instead of allowing it to fester, and turn into bitter resentment (not that I truly believe it would but nevertheless), I’m choosing to bow out with grace. I will forge ahead, and see where this new path of opportunity leads.
When you’re young, your parents tell you that you can do anything you want. Be anything you want. And lately, the things that I want seem to have become clear. After twenty three years, things are finally starting to make a little bit of sense. So the change ahead feels more and more like the right choice. The right time. And for the first time in a long time, I’m looking forward to what the future has in store.