Mid-Life Crisis: Take 2
I’m on my second mid-life crisis. Yes, I’ve determined you can have more than one. My life, my rules.
Who knows where this particular tailspin has come from. It could be because my 47th year on this earth is quickly approaching. It could be because I might be losing my job in the near future. It could be because I’m still not sure how to behave since my son lives with his dad now.
Whatever the reason, I’m flailing once again.
The last time this happened I:
- Got my motorcycle license, but never got the bike.
- Made plans to jump off tall towers on zip lines (even though I’m deathly afraid of heights) and jump I did, along with my son (who is also scared of heights).
- Loaded up my son and took him to Colorado for a white water rafting trip that included both of us going over the side and taking a crisp dip in the river, for one of the most exhilarating adventures either one of us had ever had.
But this time the flailing is different.
This time I want a really big change.
This time I want to move.
Not just move, but sell my house and all my shit, and buy an RV and go some place totally different move.
I want out of Kansas. This will always be my home, but I want to experience something different. I have lived within 50 miles of my hometown, all my life, except for 3 years in Germany. Seriously, how fucking boring is that?
Problem is, I’m scared shitless. The fear is near paralyzing. I drag my heels about finishing the minor detail work on my house. I keep pushing back my listing date.
I don’t know where to find the courage to step out of this comfort zone I’ve constructed for myself. I have no idea where it might come from, but I have a sneaking suspicion I will have to discover it just like. . .
when I got on a motorcycle for the first time,
or when I got in that raft on that river,
or when I stepped off that zip line platform.
It will come to me exactly when I need it.
Fat Bottom Girl Said What 