Today is Thursday. I have the weekend to finish packing the rest of my belongings and be on my way by Tuesday. The end of one chapter of your life and the opening of the next is a volatile time. Transitions can bring out the best and the worst in people. Until the past week I have been looking forward to this transition and, as the daydreamer that I am, I have made many plans.
But when you’re getting down to the wire and everything seems to be straying from schedule, it is easy to stop looking at change like the next adventure and start thinking of it as something you must endure.
I do not want to go into this move and this job thinking of it as a chore that must be accomplished, something I can fake well enough if I muster only the requisite energy. I don’t want this to be sloppy and half-hearted.
I need to begin this experience with the joie de vivre of a young woman embarking on an exciting adventure, filled to the brim with the unknown. I should be thrilled, and I think that deep down I am. It’s just on the surface that I’m exhausted and grumpy and worried that my schedule will not be adhered to, and that too many unknowns will turn out to hurt me rather than help me. But that isn’t the case, because I don’t need a rigid schedule, and the unknowns can only harm me if I have a mentality of defeat to begin with.
So today I’m starting over. Not with the packing, thank God, but with the thinking. I need to enter this chapter prepared. I will make the most of every possibility and every unseen fork in the road. It’s exciting! I can be who and what I want in this new place, and until I let it, there’s nothing to stop me.
So I’ll be walking in, exhausted, sweaty, a little perplexed and probably naive, but I will have a smile on my face, my hand extended to greet new people, and the conviction that this chapter is going to be the most excellent literature my life has written yet. I’m ready.