boon of the unexpected

One thing I’ve come to learn these past two years is how many unexpected things can occur when you allow them to, and how disappointing the expected is if you cling to it out of a desire for safety and security.

A few years ago the idea of moving across the country with nothing but a suitcase would have seemed impossible. I couldn’t imagine how to proceed or how I would survive. Clinging to the expected and the risk-free were things I did to avoid introspection. I knew what I was capable of because it was all things I had done already. A lack of challenge leads to a lack of ability to see any distance ahead. It was only when I set my sights on moving to Seattle that I was able to once again begin challenging myself in unexpected ways.

My primary motivation was thus: anything but here. I had hit the bottom and anything at all in Seattle would be at least a half-step above where I was before. Being in a place where I essentially knew no one would give me a chance to redefine myself by the challenges I faced and overcame. I had done what I had never expected of myself, and was free to continue on that path, exploring what I had as of yet not acknowledged the existence of. Each day I find myself waking up happier to be alive than I ever had felt in Minnesota, and excited about what lays ahead for me here.

All has not been champagne and roses, though. There has been drama borne of miscommunication and my own occasional boneheadedness. There has been heartbreak. All in all, though, the calculated risks have been well worth the cuts and bruises I’ve endured so far. I’d make some sort of mountain-climbing analogy but it wouldn’t be adequate, as you can’t really stay on top of a mountain and so it is an empty accomplishment. I’d say my move to Seattle is more akin to having been lost in the desert and finding a beautiful and lush oasis. That is really what Seattle is — an oasis for those of us who are tired of who or what we were and wish to become what we had thought impossible.

Each day I silently thank those who have helped me along the way. You should know who you are if you’re reading this, and now it’s on paper sotospeak. Thank you for putting up with me as I improve upon my former self, little by little. Thank you for introducing me to worlds of experiences that I otherwise would have avoided like the plague. Thank you for pushing me to succeed, and to enjoy that success.

And to cap this post, a poem from Robert Frost, appropriately titled “Happiness Makes Up in Height for What It Lacks in Length”

Oh, stormy stormy world,
The days you were not swirled
Around with mist and cloud,
Or wrapped as in a shroud,
And the sun’s brilliant ball
Was not in part or all
Obscured from mortal view–
Were days so very few
I can but wonder whence
I get the lasting sense
Of so much warmth and light.
If my mistrust is right
It may be altogether
From one day’s perfect weather,
When starting clear at dawn,
The day swept clearly on
To finish clear at eve.
I verily believe
My fair impression may
Be all from that one day
No shadow crossed but ours
As through its blazing flowers
We went from house to wood
For change of solitude.