Another year older. Another year wiser? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Last year, I did a little staycation and treated myself. This year, I met up with one of my best friends and went to the magical city of… Cleveland. Yes, Cleveland. We went there to see the Angels play the Guardians.

It was a great trip, and Cleveland was lovely. We took scooters around like a couple of middle-aged dorks and explored the various neighborhoods around Cleveland: University Heights, Little Italy, Ohio City, Tremont, and some others, and downtown. It was kind of the best to be able to meander about and explore.

Because I left town, I couldn't attend WordCamp US. That was a bummer because I missed out on seeing so many friends. However, spending time with a close friend I don't see often was every bit as good.

I've spent a lot of time over the last year and a half deconstructing myself, trying to understand myself, my impulses, and who I am while connecting all of it to who I want to be.

The process is a process and annoyingly slow. Some days and weeks, I feel like I'm doing the thing. Other days and weeks, I feel stuck and frustrated. Things are happening even if I don't always see them happening.

I'm at an odd crossroads in my life. Fear of change, I realize, is a central component to how I show up in the world.

I often ask and over analyze decisions that invite uncertainty. I often ask: will this change will put me in a worse spot than before. What if this goes terribly wrong? What then?

Such questions have kept me in place for a long time, perhaps too long. I've worked hard to have the things that I have; however, I've allowed myself to become complacent at the expense of many possibilities; all because I didn't know how those changes would play out.

I spoke with my Mother not long ago, when I visited her in Oregon. I asked her what countries she wanted to visit or were on her bucket list. She didn't have an answer. She sees travel as an inconvenience and a risk. She's not wrong. My mom was a single mother; she had to scrape to make ends meet; she lived through several setbacks; has always had to scrape and crawl to make a living. So, yes, she's risk averse.

Hearing my mom spell out her risk aversiveness, I could see it within myself—I was doing the same thing!

It's not just risk; it's also looking at the entire scope that a change or investment would require of me. The money, the time, the discomfort. I'm pretty settled and secure with what I've built myself. I've blown things up, let opportunities slip away, and so much more because of my fear of change and failure, and also because, in many ways, I didn't feel worthy of life's good things.

I can't say I've worked through these fears completely. What I can say is that I'm working on them, however, a little bit at a time. I'm getting there.

Maybe at 47 I'll have taken a step or two beyond to see what lies on the other side of my fears.

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