I left my corporate job in the spring of 2013, having balled together every ounce of courage in order to take a big leap without a fully hatched Plan B in place. It was simultaneously terrifying and liberating, and I would be either a genius or an idiot, depending on how things panned out.
There’s been a lot since then: some endings, some beginnings; happy tears and desperate, devastated ones, too; significant healing (which implies the significant pain that came first), redemption (a nod to the sins) and quite a bit of beauty. Most of all, there have been choices, and more times than not, there’s been the choosing right.
A few months after I left that job, I learned that a group of girlfriends were going to Paris. I had been once before, when I was just shy of 17, and fell in love with the city. The taste of it, the smell of it, the look, the sound; Paris woke all of my senses. I desperately wanted to go back but didn’t have the money.
So you know what I did? I took all those old corporate clothes and had a fancy garage sale. The power suits, the four-inch heels, the silk blouses and the statement necklaces – SOLD! Piece by piece that wardrobe, so thoughtfully curated over the years to reflect the persona it shrouded, netted over $1K. And off to Paris I flew, giddy with the symbolism of what I had just shed.
One of my last nights there, I came across this chalkboard at the entrance to a café. “Tout est possible,” it read. “Everything is possible.” ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING, I remember thinking to myself.
“Anything and everything” has become a bit of a life motto since that time, because I’ve seen enough of the improbable come to fruition to know it’s true. Really damn true.
On the days when I’m not sure what’s next… or I question whether I have in me what I need for the next leg of the journey… when my feelings of freedom are overshadowed, however briefly, by moments of terror… I remember anything and everything, and once again I am the brave, optimistic girl who can take a leap without knowing all the details of Plan B.
May we all find that girl (or boy) inside us, and let her out more often. I have a feeling she won’t fail us as much as we fear.
