Old suitcase on the railway

I’m still here.

A flight risk with no exit plan
except the one
that had me leaving
years ago.

This was the day
I was supposed to walk away
from the life and the job I created
over the last decade.

The directive was clear.
If we build it…
they will come
and I will go.

Except I’m still here.

Year after year
I’m still here.

Who would have guessed?
Surely no one who knew me
from my gypsy days.

No one could have predicted
the return to the homeland
so far from the mountains that moved me
or the sunlight that saved me
or the solitude that allowed me to hear my soul’s stirring.

No one would have guessed
I would have traded the freedom that defined me
for the structure that now sustains me.

My day job has made many things possible
that my day dream could not…
continuing education,
international travel,
healthcare,
an influx of working capital for my own business,
and global connections.

For that I am eternally grateful.

I thought one year of playing full out
would be enough
to build a brand,
conjure up the courage,
and manifest the momentum
required to leap into the great unknown.

Perhaps I was a bit optimistic in my projections.

For a free spirit
who constantly hears
the call of the wild,
the call to stay
challenges me to my core.

I know adventure awaits.

And yet,
I’m still here.

I have not abandoned ship.
I have not abandoned my relationships.
I have not abandoned myself, my business, or my dreams.

Hold steady,
hold the vision,
hold my ground.

The next spiritual frontier appears to be
Holding On and Letting Go 
at the same time.

So I’m still here…
learning,
practicing.

A flight risk with no exit plan
except the one
that will emerge
when it’s time to fly.