have you ever dog-earred a page of a book to a passage that knocked your socks off, only to see it later and wonder what the big deal was? or, you do remember why it was a big deal and are relieved you don't have to go "there" again? every once in a while i'll come across some written words i've saved, and find them later to not have the same brevity they once did, which carries a certain satisfaction. it makes me feel like i've successfully "graduated" from something difficult that i can now look back on, even though i've become wise enough to know one tough lesson always gets quickly replaced by another.
but there's a passage that paulo coelho once wrote in his book by the river piedra i sat down and wept, that always turns out to be a necessary read for me each time i open the book to that well-worn page. i suppose it continues to make an impact on me because the message aligns with a hardwired storyline i've created for myself for as long as i can remember. a story where it's always the other person that writes the book (i can't write), or becomes the dancer (i'm not good enough) or takes a year to sail around the world (whoa....way too scared.) so i find it necessary to come back to that passage, to remind myself that there are always fortunes within me, and waiting for me if i am so bold as to reach for them.
in the most recent handful of years i've occasionally stepped outside of the comfort zone, the zone from which i previously only chose the things that were "safe", that i knew i wouldn't fail at, to test the "i wonder if i could...." waters. some attempts were quite the failures, and some were actually successes, but either way i knew i felt like i was truly living by allowing myself to come down on either side. and for me, all that scary letting go, so far, has not failed to leave me feeling rich. trusting the process is hard, but holding on tightly to safe is much, much harder.