Life on the Ledge

Once a year, I task myself with finding a cliff above a body of water to hurl myself off of. The scoping of a good spot, the swim over from the boat, the scaling of the rock face, and the final stride to the depths below reminds me what it is to live. We are all on this planet to seize life, take risks, and make it uniquely our own. 

I could say it gets easier each time you take the plunge, but that would be a lie. What I have learnt however is that the more time you spend mulling about on that ledge, the harder it is to jump. Goosebumps wash over my skin like waves, legs waver, while my thoughts circle around whether I need to start talking about my sanity in the past tense. The longer I stand up there, the more likely I am to bow out.

Tracking my career path has me feeling the same way. 

I recently quit a job that sounded amazing, but never felt like the right fit. I wore it like my dress clothes from the pre-covid days, uncomfortable and clinging to all the wrong places. I am not a Monday to Friday, 9 to 5 grinder. I thrive when my creativity has no bounds. 

So I dunked into my savings and filched a bitter-sweet taste of the retired life. A one third life rejuvenation if you will, as opposed to a crisis. I used this time to entertain my artistic side and ponder the age-old question “What to do with my existence?” 

“Sort out career” has been on my to-do list for quite some time now. A daunting task I have been petrified to tackle. But as the distance between me and my corporate hustle lengthened, my calling to creative writing grew from a faint whisper to a resounding roar. It was shocking to uncover a desire of mine kept at bay since my early twenties; a desire I never felt empowered to ponder let alone pursue for several reasons: 

·      I didn’t do well in grade school English

·      I have no formal training

·      There are so many people in the world who are better than me

·      The life of an artist is one of struggle and failure

·      It is impossible to make a living at

·      I don’t have the persistence, drive, and motivation

·      Do I have anything worth saying?

While this crushing self-doubt is the product of many societal and personal factors, I had amplified it, given it legs, by peering over the edge for far too long; letting my mind run wild with all the things that could possibly go wrong as well as all the things that could possibly go right. 

I’m well overdue for another leap, only this time around I’m falling towards a dream. One I have long denied myself the freedom to chase. All those fears are still carefully filed away, but the prospect of staying up there or climbing back down to “safety” is much, much scarier.