before the sun comes up

I have thought about this a lot. About life and the chances we take. Big and small. About asking questions that matter. About taking risks.

My freak-out/worry period of life usually happens in the dark hours of the morning, when my consciousness has yet to arrive. It's like the worry rests right below the surface, and when my mind and body are acclimating to real life time, it's the perfect opportunity for the worry to escape, when my guard is down, when my logic isn't in proper working order. And it happens...the questions come...about the people I choose to trust...the choices I am making...the outfit I wore the day before...and so on and so on...and then I wake up for real...and remember...

that the risks we take are at the root of those worries...of the unknown...and I can't do anything about the unknown. I remember how much my soul wants to take those risks, and that all of the times in my life when I have had the wee-hour worries before making big decisions, I have pushed the fear aside, followed through...often with difficulty...and not regretted a minute of it.

I told my mom last night that my life may always change...often...in six month increments...and that's good with me. I am not wishy-washy. I am just not willing to agree to the 8-5. And call me crazy, but I want to take the risks. I want my life to be filled with the "oh shit" moments...where I wonder what in the hell have I gotten myself into. And then follow through...and grow...and be grateful...and continue breathing.