Day 43: Courage

Twelve thousand feet and an incoming snowstorm most certainly requires courage.
February near Cedar Breaks National Monument in Utah.

After months of uncertainty, nothing about my plans for the future have noticeably changed. I still feel like everything is wide open, with pathways and modes of adventure I haven't yet even considered. Facing my fears - from spiders to heights to hypocrisy - isn't easy. I don't have a clear sense of "this is what you are supposed to be doing" for anything much further beyond today. However, I am trying to keep my options open so that whatever the next steps are supposed to be can reveal themselves in time.

Today, that path clearing looks like doing a phone interview for additional work prospects. I hate being in debt and know that I can use my skills to help remove that weight from my shoulders. Taking on a second job ostensibly "grounds" me to one place for more of the year at a time because balancing one job while living nomadically is already pretty tough.

I'm not sure I WANT to just live from my vehicle. It is theoretically freeing, but it is also a logistical nightmare. I'm confident that I do not want to live in an apartment long-term (Piper needs room to RUN!), but could make it work if there was a financial upside and a dog park nearby. I know I want to continue teaching AND I know I have genuinely enjoyed living on or near college campuses where I find it easy to become part of the community.

Each experience - for good or ill - has given me new parameters around which to define my boundaries. It will take courage to stand strong, choose the things that I decide are best for me, and follow the path that helps me get there. If I have learned anything about myself since leaving Virginia in 2021, it is that I am brave. I have courage. I am capable.

Today, I am especially grateful for these revelations as I start teasing out what the future might look like for me. To find out what's in store, you'll have to keep coming back!

Life is both an open road and potentially muddy. Paper birch and pine in Black Hills National Forest.