I am a classic over-thinker. My whole life, I have strategically weighed out the pros and cons to the point of mental exhaustion and, at times, it has actually held me back from experiences that may very well have been wholly fulfilling and transformative.
Somewhere along the way, I began to learn and practice the art of letting go and it has allowed me to see the world from a place of openness rather than one of fear. For some, this may come easily. For me, it truly is a practice. Just last week, surrounded by the beauty of a new country, I found myself hesitating to participate in some things that were actual “once in a lifetime” experiences because I was calculating the dangers in my head. Should I not run through the Baltic Sea on a chilly Autumn day while the tide is rising because I am going to get wet or should I do exactly that because I get the chance to walk along one of the most scenic and interesting places I have ever been and will likely never be again? Should I not go to Colorado because my friend bailed and everyone is telling me that it’s unsafe to go alone, or should I go because it’s a place that I have always wanted to see and I shouldn’t let the fears of others control my decisions?
Time and time again, I have faced fear and overcame it. I have witnessed the gravest human sorrows alongside the deepest commitment to resolve. I have absorbed trauma and transformed it into resilience. That is what I reminded myself of when I allowed fear to trickle in once again, while facing the decision to make another career change.
“I could never do that.” “You know that’s going to be really sad, right?” “Do you think you can handle it?” – These are some of the responses I received when I told people that I was considering pursuing a career in hospice nursing.
So, here I am, one year into nursing and a lifetime into learning my strengths and improving my weaknesses, announcing to you all that I am onto the next journey. Because the water may be cold, and I will undoubtedly get wet, and exploring the unknown can be scary, but this place is beautiful and I may never be here ever again, so I’m going in.