Follow Your Fear
People say they miss California. People say they have fallen in love with the city. Our topic of discussion lately has been dominated by thoughts of who has realized they belong on the other coast, and who will happily return home to the sand. And every time I get asked, I pause. Far out west lies home. You follow the sun, you find home, poetically, hailing from California promises that is you just follow the sunset you will walk the streets you once owned. So, what happens when you follow the sunrise? I discovered that yes, you have to run head first into darkness. In most of our cases, we even got to fly. In the middle of the night, on a straight shot to our nation’s capital. The first thing I saw, signaling adventure out to the right side of the shuttle’s window was the Washington Monument, bravely scaling the east coast sky that I had yet to paint. For the first time, I breathed the cold and inviting east coast air. It was alive. And that unpainted sky was just asking to be found. Asking to be danced under. Asking for waving hands. Asking to own the laughter. And for the loudness of new friends. And the quiet hours typing to file stories. Whenever someone said a quarter was just too short, I smiled knowing I got to live every single second of it between then and March 17th. Seventy-two days. The longest amount of time I have ever gone without feeling 70 degree sun. The longest stretch of time away from everything I knew. The first time I packed a bag, entirely to chase a dream. I believe in the unexpected adventure. And I believe in fate. My plan was to test the power of words unwritten. To push every limit and discover just what it is that makes me want to write. And want to write about sports. So, I write. And I write. And I get to celebrate, everyday I take the shuttle to work. Everyday I pass through union station. Every day I sit next to the Redskins beat writer and in the middle of the newsroom, I get to celebrate people, kids, professional athletes, who are chasing a dream. Who believe so strongly in something. And have a love, for a game. To me, that is something to be celebrated. Passion. Persistence. Patience.
Before hovering over state borders and parting with the west until spring, as the excitement mounted, so did the fear. I have never been more scared. But I realized, why should that stop you from doing something? Fear pushes us to do great things. Fear means you’re onto something good. And something worth living. That is a feeling that should be followed. That’s what I want to live. So I decided, it was time to follow my fear. Look it straight in the face, chase that darkness, and find out what I can do with it.
And the sun rose on my flight to DC.
Now, with less than a month left, the halls buzz with who belongs on what coast.
What if we’re a little bit of both?
I’m not done following my fear. And I’m not done working.
Here’s to inspiration that comes from feeling alive wherever your fear takes you.
