I can’t say why life goes the way it does. Why it is that when you finally get back on the saddle, the horse has a spaz attack and you going flying the other direction once again. What I do know is that a year ago I would have considered these setbacks catastrophic. I would have convinced myself there would be no coming back from them. That the horse was going to trample me on the ground until I had no choice but to stay there.
In the span of my 26 years, I have lived in nine different Canadian “cities” encompassed within three provinces and two territories – varying on a spectrum between the country’s capital and a First Nations reserve in the Yukon populated by less than 300 people. Within these places I have moved a total of 11 times. The longest I’ve ever lived in once place is five years.
There are rational fears. There are irrational fears. There is biology and there is psychology. Fear leaves us awake at night. Fear makes us run. Fear can consume us. Predominately, fear keeps us safe.
We live in a world where we are constantly waiting. Waiting for the day our parents finally let us take the family car for a spin. Waiting until we graduate high school. Waiting for our 19th birthday to take that first (legal) sip of alcohol. Waiting for the next best thing.
They say that everything happens for a reason – and while I’m not sure how much you (or I) buy into the whole fate mentality – I recently had a moment of clarity. In spite of the fact I have experienced what was by far the most challenging year of my life, for the first time ever, I felt truly and genuinely grateful for it.