More than twenty inches of snow and 2,000 miles later, I drove back into Baltimore ready to jump. Driving has always been my thinking time -- from years of canvassing Delta backroads to meandering East Coast oceanside highways, open roads have always had a way of opening my heart.
On the final stretch home, I listened to hours of talks from my new favorite motivational speaker, Lance Wallnau. He shared one story about the Japanese oranda fish, an aquatic beauty whose growth depends entirely on what size tank it lives in -- Oranda fish in small tanks stay small; ones placed in bigger tanks grow up to five times that size.
Lance’s point was that often our dreams are limited by our own “fish bowls” -- our environment, our thinking, our choices. We allow our lives to be restricted by the size of our “tanks” rather than growing into our full potential.
Before I had time to twist and contort back into the Baltimore fish bowl, I reread old blog entries that had been on my mind and was stunned by such tangible reminders of just how long I’d been struggling here. Inertia, among other things, had kept me from taking action, along with a nice hefty dose of fear.
Fear of walking away from my job/salary/success/benefits/travel/comfort and being seen as crazy/confused/misguided/cowardly/stupid. Didn’t I know about the economy/unemployment/being patient/counting my blessings in a time like this? Yes. Yes, I have wrestled with every one of those questions absolutely endless times, from every angle, walking through every possible scenario, to the point of total decision-making paralysis and near-forgetfulness of the Big Dreams in my heart.
But finally (FINALLY), the night I retuned, I had perhaps the most clear vision I have had in many years... And I knew that God had not brought me to the precipice of a cliff and asked me to jump, He had simply brought me to the edge of a stream and asked me to hop -- to step out onto a stone and begin making my way across. That’s it. This wasn’t a huge mountain at all, and it required no gigantic leaps. It required only a single, simple step.
With that realization, my courage and my peace quietly returned. I took a deep breath and placed my foot on the firm, smooth stone of my future.
My last day at JHU will be February 5th. The sense of relief I felt the day I gave my resignation was almost euphoric -- the weight of day to day dysfunction would soon be over, the fearless risk-taker in me was alive again, and my far-away aspirations seemed just a little bit closer. I honestly can’t believe it took me so long, because now that it’s done, I know unwaveringly that it was the right decision to make.
I’ve learned so very much in my nearly three years here and will leave with a breadth of new knowledge that I’m forever grateful for. But it was, and has been, time for me to move on -- to new challenges and adventures, to healthier environments, to a life of Faith instead of fear... to a much, much bigger fish bowl.
My heart is open, the horizons ahead are limitless, and to borrow from my current life theme song, the rest is still unwritten… :)
