When the Right Decision is the Scary One

The beginning of the end has found me again as I close a chapter I thought would stay open longer, a chapter I thought would begin the next book, not end the current one.

Tennessee is my chosen home, and it’s scary to leave a place filled with people who have taken the unspoken vows of friendship that have now outlasted the convenience of youth and the first taste of separation that adulthood brings.

As I figuratively and literally pack up my life, I know I am likely tucking some emotions and realizations into neat compartments to process later in the name of surviving now.

With each box and each goodbye, I feel the impending change looming closer.

The next months of my life are largely unplanned, and I don’t know what awaits me when I step off my next plane.

However, I do know that moving down life’s path with less resistance invites us to meet the directions we’re pulled in with curiosity rather than logic.

Change can be scary and we often avoid it for that reason — the discomfort of not knowing if what awaits us on the other side of the decision is worth giving up the comfort of what we currently have. But, we never know what lies on the other side of “what if” if we don’t chase it.

The scary parts of the decisions that challenge our trust are not discussed enough. So often we feel a pull for something and we don’t follow it. We get years down the line and wonder what would have happened or could have been.

Waking up with that wondering is my greatest fear. Bigger than the fear of what happens if I do is the fear of what didn’t happen if I don’t. People tell me I’m stronger and braver than they could ever be, but I think it’s just a different fear that I run from.

The fear of not knowing what could have been keeps me running into the unknown. It has me chasing every question within my mind and every dream within my heart. It keeps me wanting to explore, to go deeper, to know myself better. It is by no means easy, but to me, it is worth it.

It’s natural for fear to accompany change. When we know what we want and decide to do it, the mind often takes the moments after initial elation to voice its chatter of all that could go wrong, all we’re “giving up”, all the reasons to question ourselves.

All that noise is just the mind. It’s natural and okay.

We can meet ourselves gently in that place of uncertainty and remind our mind that its worries are valid, but it is not driving the bus today.

If we allow that fear in, giving it a seat but not the wheel, we can move through the process of change with more peace.

Attempting to shut down the chatter in our minds often only makes it grow louder, as trying to shut down our anxiety often only makes it break down the door.

Giving the chatter or the fear or the anxiety room makes it feel heard and strengthens the knowing that our intuition is guiding us in the right direction. We learn to trust ourselves rather than our fears over time.

Nevertheless, often the right decision is the scary one.

As fear subsides, trust builds. Then comes the in-between and overwhelm: to-do lists; preparations; planning; sometimes endings, resignations, and breakups.

There are always things to be done, ends to be tied up before we can truly move forward and often this feels like two steps forward and one step back.

It’s a period of operating on autopilot where reality feels just out of reach, where we often have to focus on the tasks at hand rather than what they represent as a means to survive all that arises with change.

It’s like the brain cannot hold the two truths simultaneously — that the ending means the beginning and the beginning means the ending. It can be hard for us to see and accept change in its entirety and that’s okay too.

I’m beginning to exit my autopilot phase. My to-do list has more crossed off than things left to accomplish. The things separating me from my next chapter are dwindling. The ending is fading. The beginning creeping in.

It’s messy. It’s chaotic. It’s tiring. It’s uncertain.

Yet, at the same time, it’s simple: my desire became clear and I decided to chase it.

We cannot always have our cake and eat it too. We cannot cling tightly while reaching for more. Sometimes life is either/or and not and/both.

In the letting go, in accepting the either/or, we show the universe that we are ready for and trusting that change will bring greatness, bring us more than what we can dream for ourselves.

Greatness is not mutually exclusive from pain or sadness or grief. Various points on the spectrum of human emotion can exist at once within the same space.

It’s all okay.

We can’t expect ourselves to navigate the unknown perfectly — we can only try our best and believe that that is enough.