Risking

When I was a little girl I wanted to be an astronaut. I thought that would be the coolest thing EVER. I wrote to NASA for a project in the second grade and they wrote back and included the most amazing pictures of space and astronauts floating above the earth. I wrote to Sally Ride, the first woman in space, and she wrote me back and even sent an autographed picture. My parents took me to the Kennedy Space Center on a visit to Florida and Space Camp was a favorite movie. I was obsessed.

I dreamed that one day I would float in the great black expanse with the moon behind me and our planet rotating in front of me. I wasn't even deterred after the Challenger tragedy. As is the case of many childhood dreams, mine slowly died for a number of reasons and I no longer found myself wanting to shoot off into the final frontier. (When I was in high school and past the stage of wanting to be an astronaut I met Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon, at a local charity tennis event. That was by far one of the coolest moments of my life.)

Since then I haven't really had any one thing that I've wanted to do with my life. Many people grow up knowing exactly what they want to do with the rest of their lives and that's what they do. I didn't. I have always had these vague ideas of what I wanted. I wanted to write. I wanted to be an author. I wanted to be a wedding planner. I wanted to write for a travel magazine. I wanted to....really, so many things.

I earned my undergrad degree in Broadcast Journalism, but decided shortly after graduation and a job at a local TV station that that wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. Huh. Now what? Sure. There were a lot of things that I would 'love to do,' but reality is another thing. Bills. The future. Life. All those things that take money. And so I found myself in higher education. Really, it was an 'accidental' career path. It was only supposed to be a temporary stop until I discovered what I really wanted to do and where God wanted me. Well, it's 9 years later and I'm still in higher ed. And really I am living out my dream for the most part. I'm living in Italy and doing life with students. I am where God wants me to be. How many people can say that? Not many. Still, there's that part of me that still craves publication, writing deadlines, wedding planning, and all of those creative outlets.

So, what I decided this weekend was this: I am going to look for ways to write freelance for travel magazines/websites, wedding design magazines/websites, and other places where I can practice my craft.    I am going to write short stories and take the pressure off myself to write my NOVEL.

I am going to put myself out there. I am going to risk. I am going to be vulnerable and see where it leads. I can't sit back anymore and call myself a writer if I'm not writing. I can't sit back and let life pass me by while I read other people's published work...and sometimes work that's not all that good at that! I am energized by this prospect and scared all at the same time. I suppose that this is normal and natural any time that you put yourself out there, anytime that you pursue your dreams. But I'd rather put myself out there and fail then find myself at the end of my life wondering what could have been had I tried. I am taking a deep breath. And I am leaping into the vast unknown...I suppose this is what it would feel like if I'd gone to space...breathless, a little scary, and exhilarating all at the same time.