My 2013 So Far

I had a sense toward the end of last year that 2013 was going to be a great year. I didn't know what that would look like, I still don't actually, but I was open. Normally as one year comes to a close and another is about to start I take a few days to reflect on the current year and think about the new year. This time I got very sick not long after Christmas and so I wasn't in the frame of mind to think about anything let alone the new year.

I gave up on new year's resolutions a long time ago because they always seemed like a setup for failure. Then for a few years I bought into the "one word" movement for a bit, but I gave up on that too for the same reason. Instead I would get quiet at the end of the year and just listen for something and write down what I heard.

Since I didn't have time to do any of that this year, I was content to take 2013 as it came and fly by the seat of my pants. That's precisely what I started out to do, and then I heard it; one word that would shape my year - FULFILLED. There it was... but what did it mean?

I was about to find out. In January I pushed through my fear and sent my manuscript to a publisher I'd been stalking for several years and two days later, I got word that it was accepted for publication!! Then came revisions and rewrites and all the nerves that go along with putting yourself out there. Now as I type this post my book is published and available for purchase and February isn't even over yet!!!

As if that wasn't enough after 3 years of hard labor (read: school work) I got my diploma in the mail! The final piece to the puzzle that is my bachelor's in English. It was a long time coming. I left school in August of 1990 without a degree and depressed about the whole situation. I tried a few times to get back, but the timing was always off. Then one day opportunity knocked and I answered and it paid off. I am now tossing around the idea of going for my MFA sometime soon, but only time will tell..

So that's been my 2013 so far in a nutshell and we still have 10 months to go. I have a feeling this is going to be some ride! I'm excited to see what else will be "fulfilled" in the months ahead. I'm glad you're along to share it with me!

Submission

Eleven days in and already 2013 has stretched me. After five years of hemming and hawing, I finally took that last step and submitted my manuscript to a publisher for consideration...

It's funny because that was the ultimate purpose for writing this book in the first place... wasn't it? Yet I dragged my feet. As I sat there with my trembling finger poised over the submit button my mind took me back to that day when I put a period on the last sentence. I remember feeling so accomplished because I finally finished something. In the years that followed I did a lot of research about the publishing process. To be honest, I had all the information I needed to get it done within a few weeks yet I procrastinated. Why?

In a word it was FEAR... The closer I got to realizing my dream, the more fear gripped me and wouldn't let go. I started second guessing every word and questioning whether writing was truly my calling. I was waging an internal battle. I made slow progress - I had the manuscript professionally edited... twice, I had the cover designed, I purchased my ISBN numbers - all very important steps.

I'm not sure what is different about this year, but somehow my desire overcame my fear and I had to take that last step and submit it for publication. After five years of  worry, fear, self doubt and procrastination, I took a couple deep breaths,  hit "submit" and waited. It only took two days to get a reply. I am pleased to announce that Faith Lifts has been ACCEPTED FOR PUBLICATION!!!! Woo Hoo!!!! I am beyond excited!

So the purpose of this post is twofold:: One - I want to chronicle this experience so that next time I find myself in this place, I have something to draw from; and Two - I hope that my story can inspire someone else to move forward toward their own dream. It is, after all, about living the life we were born to live; the life we see in our dreams. It's the most terrifyingly fulfilling journey any of us can ever take!! Oh but what a ride!

From Fragments to Wholeness

I've been having a struggle lately.. with categories. This is odd for me since I have been a chronic compartmentalizer since as far back as I can remember. As a child, when I put away my toys I put like things together. When I started keeping a journal as a tween, I divided my journals into sections - school, home, boys, etc.. The tendency followed me into adulthood, and explains why I have three blogs, six email addresses. I have even been known to categorize people. In my mind I have always equated this behavior with being organized and, if I'm honest, it's also about control. Compartmentalizing, I believed, brought order to my potentially chaotic life.Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with categorizing. It is necessary and it has its benefits. The problem is in becoming  obsessive about it, as I surely was.

Recently I was asked what type of writing I do. I hesitated for a moment then replied, "Well, if I had to categorize it... I'd say I write Christian fiction." Even as I said it, I was uncomfortable.Not because I have anything against the genre, because I don't. The thought of being pigeonholed into one genre of writing has always been a fear of mine because I have never believed creativity has limits. I am very zealous about my creative freedom, so I have been reluctant to put a label on my writing. [Note to self: next time it comes up, I'm going to say, "Oh, I'm an eclectic writer."]

I have no idea why, but I'm very different in my writing life than I am in the other areas of my life. This started  me thinking about why that might be and whether or not it was time to make some changes. In the weeks that followed, I started to reevaluate my "compartmentalizing tendencies." After years and years, it finally dawned on me that those categories I have tired so hard to maintain represent the fragments that make up the whole me. By separating them, I may have had the illusion of control and organization, but in actually I  limiting myself and infringing on my own right to just "be" - if that makes sense.

And so I have started the process of integrating the components I have kept separate for so long because, after all, they are all me. My faith, my creativity, my journey to health - they are all me. They don't exist in a vacuum and I refuse to continue to treat them as such any longer. As I think about what this is all going to look like when I'm done, I am excited about the transformation ahead of me. As I remove the limits I've placed on myself, I look forward to a greater degree of freedom and creativity. I can't wait!

I have been sitting here crying for most of the evening... You know what, I think I should start from the beginning.

A few months ago, I decided to take a sabbatical from the news. It simply became too overwhelming and depressing to watch, so I quit the news - just like that. I was quite content to take up residence in the state of Oblivion. Whatever news I was aware of came in the form of snippets from the radio program I listen to during my morning commute, or from links people posted on facebook or twitter. I wasn't a bit bothered about not being able to contribute to conversations about current events because I had no clue what was going on in the world. Yes it was working out quite nicely for me if I do say so myself - until last week when two things happened.

First, I heard about the Kony 2012 campaign and I, like millions of others, jumped in with both feet without looking before I leapt. I mean, I bought the t-shirt and everything y'all; as it it should literally be arriving in my mailbox any day - but I digress... [Incidentally I am praying for the young man, Jason Russell, who co-created the video...]

After my rush of social activism, I stumbled on a commentary by Ugandan Journalist, Rosebell Kagumire and got the other perspective. In the case of this story, I forgot that there are several sides to every story and you don't get the full story if you leave them out. That is a very bad thing for a writer because the majority of what we do to create stories and characters people care about and relate to is to research and present multiple sides of a story.  Residents of Oblivion, I found out, do just the opposite. They go with whatever is popular and end up getting tossed around by any doctrine/movement/story that comes along. I was guilty. Somewhere along the way I forgot that I am that word nerd who actually looks up words AND their origins to make sure I understand things thoroughly long before I ever put paper to pen. [My paperback Merriam Webster that is split in half with its many dog-eared pages is proof of that.]

Told ya! ;o)  Second, I heard about Trayvon Martin's story [way after the fact because, remember, I had "quit" the news] and my heart just about broke to the point I was in tears. This young man's story hit me so hard, and I couldn't figure out why. Then tonight I  saw his picture and realized this young man was around the same age as my nephew. I realized that given different circumstances it could have been my nephew... or anyone's nephew for that matter. It made me sad and angry and scared for reasons I won't go into in this particular post, but it also triggered something in me. I believe this story had to hit me like it did to show me that when I quit the news, I quit more than I realized.

 And so my tears and prayers tonight have not been about me; they haven't even been just about the Martin family [AND the Zimmerman family]. They have also been for the hurting people out there who need real hope, who need real help before they do something crazy, who need to see real change in their circumstances so they don't lose their minds. I know because I have been there and I know it was only the prayers of someone (or someones) else that carried me through.

So, I hear-by announce that I have moved out of Oblivion and back into the real world. The break was nice, but I'm ready to dive back in now. I don't plan to become a news junkie by any means, but I do intend to keep myself informed and aware from this point on. Ignorance is NOT bliss... who said that anyway? I see more research in my future!

NOTE: The phrase ignorance is bliss is from a poem by Thomas Gray called "Ode on a Distant Prospect of Eton College (1742). The complete line reads, Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise." 

Don't Go Speed Your Time Away

   
     As long as I can remember I've had a bad habit of wishing I was somewhere other than where I was at that moment. When I was little I wished I was big, when I was with family I wished I was with friends... I've since stopped doing it - maybe because I'm older now. Well, I've stopped in all but one area. I still find myself wishing I was somewhere writing while I'm at work! Horrible I know, but it's the truth.

     Don't get me wrong, I actually like what I do, but is it my passion? Not hardly! I normally do a pretty good job at staying focused and being productive, but every once in a while my mind wanders to that teenage fantasy of sitting at my desk or kitchen table in a sweatshirt, leggings and slouch socks (Ooh, I may have just dated myself!) cranking out my latest book or an article on my laptop while the cat naps peacefully at my feet... Never mind  that I don't own a cat!

     The fact is this: by the time I get home after 9 hours of pouring into someone else's dream, fighting through and hour and fifteen minute commute one way, dropping off and picking up, I'm shot! I don't feel like looking at a computer. I don't feel creative in the least. The weekends come and go before I get settled in good... It's quite a quandary it is.

     The reality is that not working is not an option for me right now. Not only does it lack wisdom at this stage in my life, but it would surely have me, my laptop, AND my imaginary cat out on the street!! So, my plan is to keep working and to make time, even if it's once a week, to WRITE; to use those rare 'spare' moments to WRITE; to look for outside opportunities to showcase my writing until the writing becomes my main source of income. I'm still ironing out what that's going to look like exactly, but it's not like I haven't got the time. Hey, and in the mean time, I may just get a cat before it's all said and done!

Free Writing Day #3...erhm.. I mean #4...

I didn't make it on here yesterday, which would have been the third installment in my free writing endeavor. My plan was to write for five minutes everyday no matter what. Here's the thing though, I missed yesterday and guess what? The world did NOT come to an end! Imagine that!!

I don't know where I got this notion that things will fall apart if I deviate from the plan even a little. I mean, my parents did not load me with guilt as a child nor did the people around me. Still somehow I took this load upon myself, this exaggerated sense of obligation. I became my own task master. I required my self to make bricks, but took away my supply of straw!* A lot of times I don't even realize I'm doing it because I've become so used to it over the years. If I don't catch myself I can become a big ole 'ball-o-stress' and then I have to talk myself down from the ledge.

Maybe it is partly because I am an inherent people-pleaser. I just hate to let people down. Or maybe it's because I don't like failing at anything. When you toss in a heaping portion of perfectionist, it's the recipe for the perfect neurotic!

But fear not, there is hope! You see, I'm aware of this tendency, and I'm working on it.My quest is to practice balance. I try to set realistic, achievable expectations of myself (no more making bricks without straw!); I make a conscious effort not to beat myself up if things don't go as I planned; and, most important, I remind myself often to HAVE FUN! I write because I enjoy it - a lot. The moment I forget that I've missed the point.

So yeah, today is day 3 or 4, and you know what? I'm perfectly ok with that. :-)


* Reference to Exodus 5:18 where the Egyptian Pharaoh decided that the Hebrew slaves should start providing their own straw to make bricks but didn't lower the quota of bricks they had to make. [can you say HARD LABOR?!]

Free Writing Day #2 - Home Sick

 I took a sick day today. For lunch yesterday, I went to the corner store near my job and got some fresh veggies and dip to snack on. Apparently the veggies [or the dip] weren't any good...

Five minutes from my house I started to feel queasy and my head started pounding... By the time I walked in the door it was all I could do to walk in the door and fall into bed.I didn't feel much better this morning so I stayed home.

Now, I can't speak for anyone else, but I always feel slightly guilty when I take a sick day; especially when I end up doing things around the house. It kind of feels like cheating on work... Like today, I did some cooking, washed and styled my hair read a little, and watched more television than the law allows...

I'm not sure what I think I should be doing but I have visions of a sick person in bed with a thermometer in her mouth and an ice pack on her head. That's not typically how my sick days look...

The good news is that whatever it was has passed and I will be heading back to work tomorrow... :o)

Free Writing Day #1

Have you noticed lately that:

• drivers no longer use their turn signals to let people behind them know which way they intend to go? It's like the new generation of drivers think the turn signal is optional because, since the world revolves around them, we should all instinctively know which way they are going to go. Really? I don't mean to sound so crotchety, but these are the folks that cause the accidents that back up traffic and make us all late for work - again... Sigh...
• that a lot parents ask their children what they want to do rather than telling them? What??? That is so not how it was for me growing up. I got told, I most certainly did NOT do the telling. It was crystal clear that I was the child not the parent. My mom and dad didn't care a lick about being our friends - they had friends. Their job was to raise me and steer me in the right direction and the friendship would come later... what a concept...
• the more connected we are [email, texting, IMing, Skype, mobile banking] the less connected we really are? When's the last time you walked in to your local bank and had a conversation with the teller who processed your transaction? I used to laugh at my mom about that, but when I went to deposit her check once when she broke her leg, the tellers all knew her and wanted to know who I was and what the heck I was doing with her check! Think about it...
• that the things "old" people used to tell you when you were growing up, the things that seemed so random  and irrelevant then, suddenly make perfect sense? Come to find out they actually knew what they were talking about! Makes me wish I'd paid closer attention... The scary part is, now I'm the old person telling my nieces and nephews things as they stare blankly convinced I must be from another planet... payback I suppose! 

My time is up for today, but those are a few things I've noticed lately and I'm wondering if it's just me. I did minimal editing and it was actually fun! 47 more days to go! Make it a memorable Monday all!

Observation vs. Participation

I have spent the better part of 2011 trying to figure out why I haven't been writing like I once did. The discipline of physically sitting down and writing a simple blog post or journal entry remained elusive over the past 316 days.

I found this strange because so much has happened this year. I also find it strange because my love and passion for writing has not waned... So what gives?

After thinking on this issue for a bit, I came up with a few reasons and more important a few solutions so that 2012 [and the rest of 2011 for that matter] does not become more of the same. So here goes:

• I have fallen into a pattern of observing vs. participating in life. Odd considering our life experiences provide the fodder for our writing. No wonder I didn't feel like I had anything to say! The Solution? I am forcing myself to get up off the couch more and become a active participant in my own life. Not soley for writing purposes but who wants to play an extra in their own life??? I'm starting by FINALLY attending a local writing group. They have been sending me evites for nearly 2 years - this will be my first time attending... sad I know.
• I am too much of a perfectionist. If I don't think what I am about to write is going to be pulitzer worthy, then I don't bother to write... How dumb is that??? I'm glad the guy who penned Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer didn't think like that! The Solution? Stop taking myself, my writing, so seriously and just let whatever comes out, come out! I'm going to start by free writing everyday - no self editing, no trying to "make it make sense" just writing. I'm excited to see what will come of it!
•  I stopped reading. I was once an avid reader. If I had a question or wanted to know something, I'd read up on it. If I wanted to lose myself in a good story, I'd read. Then I went back to school as an English major and all I did was read... assigned reading. When I took a break from school I decided to just "veg" for a while.... Sadly I never stopped. The Solution? I've downloaded several books on my nook and I plan to take some time every day to just read. Reading is inspirational and motivational. I've often heard that good writers are readers, and I believe that.

So, it's day 317 and while I'd love to hang out here, I've got places to go and people to see and stories to tell! Happy Sunday all!

A Belated Thank You

Have I ever thanked you
For breaking my heart
Because I've been meaning to
And I don't mean it in a bitter or sarcastic way
at all....

See, it's because of you that I know
What a relationship can be
Because of you I know the depths that are possible
The heights that are scale-able

If not for you I wouldn't know
How it feels to open your heart and soul
To another without reservation
And still be accepted - oh the sensation

I wouldn't know it was possible to speak
Without saying a word
Or that eyes can convey what the heart seeks

So yeah, I've been meaning to thank you
For years I've been meaning to thank you
So... Thank You

Memories

How long has it been?
20, 25 years?
Yet when I close my eyes
your face appears.
I can still feel your arms
that strong embrace
I can still see the passionate
Look on your face
I prayed that the memories
would begin to fade.
But once they are there
They cannot be un-made
So all these years later
Though time has passed
The memories of you
continue to last...

Writers Write...

I always feel a little guilty when I hear fellow writer's use the phrase, "writers write." I mean, it's true enough, but it always triggers the nagging doubt that I manage to keep hidden most of the time. The inner voice that questions, "Are you sure you are meant to be a writer?"

I have been in workshops with writers I love and admire and heard them tell of waking up at ungodly hours to  crank out a chapter or two BEFORE work! What? Or burning the midnight oil to do the same. Not! I would leave these sessions calling my own commitment into question. Truth be told, some days it's all I can do to wake up when the alarm goes off at 4:30, stumble out the door get to work by 7, work for 9 hours, stumble back into the house and try to fit in some things before I fall into bed to do it all over again... Days go by when my pen never touches the paper or my fingers don't touch the keys. Does that mean writing is not important to me? That I am less than dedicated? That I am less of a writer somehow? Because I am not writing at a set time every single day does that necessarily make me less committed to completing my work? For those who would say "yes," I have to disagree.

Yes, writers write, but it may look different for you than it does for me. I may get a chorus to a song while stuck in traffic on the way to or from work and jot it down in black eyeliner onto a crumpled envelope. The idea for a scene in the novel I've been working on may come to me when I'm brushing my teeth and I pause to write it down. My method is not the most organized for sure. There is no apparent rhyme or reason, but it works for me... for now anyway. As I remain open to those idea moments the ideas continue to come. As I piece them together the tapestry they weave is a thing of beauty; a story that I allowed to flow through the available spaces in my life. I am so OK with that.

So yes, writers write, but the process is as individual as the writer himself/herself. My friend A writes to music, T prefers quiet, while I tune out the noise around me and write anywhere. The end product is the same - a beautiful piece of writing. Writers write indeed!

Thinking of You

by Esperanca Cardoso (c) 2011

I am thinking of you today

Smiling to myself about a joke we have yet to share

Longing for conversation with a voice I’ve never heard

I am thinking of you today

Hoping your day is going well

Wondering what you have planned for the evening

Wondering when those plans will include me

I am thinking of you today

Imagining how we will meet

Expecting to run into you at any time and just know

Until then, know that I am thinking of you…

Poem 2

Destruction Part II - The Other Side
by Esperança Cardoso © September 28, 2009
Whispering waves along the shore coaxed me,

like the gentle voice of a mother waking her sleeping child.
slowly, slowly I opened my eyes.
the sun was warm on my face
blindingly brilliant
realization washed over me like a spring rain
I faced the worst and I am still here
Joy flooded my being from top to bottom

I struggled to my feet.
darkness had done its worst
darkness had closed in
darkness had engulfed me
but I made it back to life
I made it back to light
I made it back to joy
Nothing weighing me down
I looked up, raised my hand towards heaven and shouted

“I AM HERE!”

Poem

Feeling "poetic" today for some reason. I warn you though, it's not of the light hearted variety...

Destruction - Part 1
Esperança Cardoso © July 9, 2009


Black holes of the soul, dark and gaping. Always being filled, never being satisfied.
Unnamed restlessness longing, crying out.
Parched greedy lips, drink thirstily from cups overflowing with… emptiness.
Leaky dams plugged up with index fingers while the waters rage all around.
Broken places covered over with tattered sheets as moth, rust and light creep beneath the folds
Corrupting what lies beneath
The chasm opens ever wider, demanding more, consuming all, hungering for still more
Floods sweep overhead drowning; arms flailing, heart pounding, out of control.
Weak pleas, choked cries for help; Does anyone hear? Does anyone see?
Is this all there is after all?
Light is so far away, a distant memory.
Lightning flashes, thunder crashes. Waves rise and fall. Is this all?
Riding currents, helpless, hopeless. Surrender is imminent - Yes, surrender
Eyes closed. The darkness is now complete…(to be continued)

Reconnecting...

There I was minding my own business on Facebook when I get a friend request. This person wasn't a mutual friend of any of my other friends. Hmmm... Still his face looked familiar... like someone I once went to school with... so I broke my own rule and accepted his friend request.

Finally curiosity got the best of me so I sent him a message asking if he ever lived in WV. He did! It was indeed my old friend from 3rd grade! I was totally blown away because I went to 2 different elementary schools in 2 different states, and I left the school we attended together in 5th grade.

Moving around so much made me very good at remembering names and faces quickly and for a long time. I tired to make my friendships count because I never knew when the church would move us again. Through the years, I wondered (and still do) what one person was doing or where another person was now. One of the friends I was never able to forget was the same guy who sent me the random friend request. On top of that he said that he'd often thought of me through the years and wondered how I was and what I was doing! I was so touched when he told me how much my friendship had meant to him all those years ago!

Long story short, we've 45 minutes away from each other for the past several years and we never knew it. So yesterday morning we met for the first time in 34 years, and suddenly I'm hugging my old pal, sitting across from him catching up over over eggs and juice, laughing over shared memories. We laughed about how we didn't feel as old as our parents had seemed at our age. For moment time stood still and it was as though we'd never been apart. It was almost surreal.

This is one of several friends that I've reconnected with over the past year or two, and the one that goes back the furthest. I'm not sure why we've come back into one anothers' lives, but I have no doubt it's for a reason. I'm looking forward to what's to come...

Words = Power

I can not tell you when my love affair with words began. I can say that ever since I can remember I've been a lover or words. Whether written, spoken or sung, I have always known that words contain power even before I knew how to articulate it.

I'm not the only one who thinks so. There are countless quotes out there about the power of our words:

“Whatever words we utter should be chosen with care, for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or evil.” Siddhartha Gotoma or Buddha (563-483 B.C.)

“Quite simply, what you say is the single biggest factor that determines your happiness.”
Irwin Katsof Executive Director Jerusalem Fund of Ashish HaTorah, author.

Kind words are a creative force, a power that concurs in the building up of all that is good, and energy that showers blessings upon the world. Lawrence G. Lovasik (1913- present) Clergyman

"Death and life are in the power of the tongue” wrote wise King Solomon, Proverbs 18:21

"Writing has an almost magical power: Words on paper, created by ordinary citizens, have overthrown governments and changed the course of history." ~ Joel L. Swerdlow

You get the idea. Many of us still feel the effects of words that have been spoken to or about us over the years. Likewise we have seen the effects of our words on others whether good or bad. Words have power and it's up to us to decide if we will use them for good of for evil, to hurt or to heal.

With this in mind, I have never been able to take the title "writer" lightly. While my words may not impact the masses, I realize they will impact whoever sees them and so I take great care in choosing them very carefully. My intent is always to bless and to build up; to encourage and to inspire. If I haven't accomplished these things, then my writing is in vain as far as I'm concerned.

Maybe this is why I shied away from the label for so long. Behind the title I saw the responsibility connected to it and I knew I lacked the maturity necessary to assume it. Now, however, I embrace it. I can't begin to describe the joy that rushes through me when someone tells me they were positively affected by something I said or something I wrote.

Yeah, words have power. They can cross barriers, bring understanding, right wrongs... power! Here's hoping more of us will choose to use our power for the good.

Stepping Out On Faith

There is a scene in the 3rd Indiana Jones movie "The Last Crusade" where Harriso... I mean Indy has to cross a wide cavern only there's no bridge... at least not a visible one. Not crossing is not an option so he literally steps out onto nothing and solid ground appears under his feet. With each step he took more ground would appear under his feet. As I sat there fascinated by the concept, I didn't fail to notice a few things: First, the ground only appeared where he stepped; Second, there was nothing to indicate there would be any ground to meet him when he took the next step, he only had the ground behind him to fuel his faith; and Third, each step was an act of trust on his part that the ground would be there. It was great stuff!

That was 1989, but I have never forgotten that scene. In fact, I have had many occasions to apply those principles in my own life. Like the time I applied for the Hurston-Wright Writer's week with no money and 25 pages of a novel. Boy, was that ever a step of faith for me. I took that step and not only was I accepted, but the money literally appeared (a check in the mail - no lie) just in time! To date, it was one of the best experiences of my writing life, but had I never taken the step... I would never have known.

Then there was my move from Maryland to Pennsylvania with no job, no place to live, and no transportation. Even so, I knew this was something I was supposed to do so I took that step. I was able to stay with a family friend (the only person I knew there), I got a job within a month and a virtual stranger who lived near me and worked in the same department offered to take me to and from work until I got settled! Three months later, I had an apartment, a job and the car soon followed! Again something I wouldn't have experienced if I had not taken a step.

With such strong examples behind me, you would think launching a professional blog would be no big deal... not so! I hesitated about this for months. Those who write can relate to the anxiety that comes with sharing your writing with the world. For me it's akin to someone stripping me naked and forcing me to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue during rush hour! (I'm shuddering at that thought and you should be too!) Yes, it is just that intense. The doubts assault my mind like machine gun fire... What do I have to say that anyone wants to hear? Am I really a writer or should I keep my day job? What if no one "gets" it? On and on the doubts danced in time to the haunting chants of "what ifs" swirling through my brain.

At some point, however... actually at this very point in time, I make a decision to take a step of faith. I can't wait to see what kind of ground shows up under my feet!