The Big Scary Unknown.

If you're just getting to know me, you'll soon find out that I have a tendency to collect school programs, degrees, and diplomas like some people collect cars. Over the past ten years I've attended no less than seven schools - some of them at the same time (oh yeah, I'm that crazy), only to graduate feeling unfinished and unable to transition to life post-school. Except this time.

I admit there was a point, roughly around the end of January this year, where I was panicking and simultaneously trying to apply for grad school while trying not to apply for grad school. My poor boyfriend probably thought I was crazy for having to put so much effort into not applying, but was gracious enough not to make a face and twirl one finger by his head when referring to me.

One half of me was convinced I needed a year or two off to try and start a life that didn't revolve around picking classes and buying textbooks with glossy, fresh print. The other half was sad to be ending just as my writing was starting to gain some good momentum. That same half was also pretty afraid that once again she'd graduate and her great expectations would dwindle into unfulfilled shadows. Always a cheery, delightful prospect.

Then I realized why this graduation is different and why I'll be a writer for the rest of my life.

See, every time I sit at my computer, hands poised above the keys, waiting to jump into a new story, I feel like I'm standing on ledge of the 25th floor of a building. I don't know how I'm gonna get down to the ground, but I know I have a matter of hours to do it. Every essay, story, chapter, or sentence written becomes a challenge in facing my fear of the unknown. I don't know how it's all going to turn out; I don't know what odd character or plot twist, or random thought may pop up along the way. I don't even know if it's all going to work out or fail spectacularly (there have been quite a few of those). But every time I've reached an end I can see I've learned just a little more about navigating through the unknown. More importantly, I've learned how to trust myself; my process.

And that's the key right there - trust. Trusting that I'll find the next spot to place my foot, or grab a ledge; trusting that if I take another go at diving into the unknown, I'll come up with something I know pretty well.

So while I search for a job and figure out where to live, and face the fact that I have no idea what life will look like next year, or even tomorrow, I can say I'm (mostly) ok with it.