My Journey to Courage

Once upon a time, I found myself trapped in a life that didn’t feel like mine. My marriage was falling apart, I didn’t care for my work, I was sick of going to bars yet I would find myself there every weekend, and I was starting to see my friendships weren’t genuine. My request for marriage counseling was turned down. I tried to turn to family, but they just suggested I pray. I felt so disconnected from myself and everyone around me. I felt like I was drowning in everyone else’s ideas of who I should be. I was starting to feel like my life didn’t have a purpose, and I was losing faith.

One day, a client  of mine offered me a ticket to an art festival for the weekend. Needing some time away from my situation, I accepted her invitation. I was instantly immersed in a new world full of bright colors, sounds, wild art, and even wilder outfits. It made me slightly uncomfortable because it was all so strange and foreign to me. The art was thought-provoking, the people were so vibrant and sure of themselves, and the questions they were asking were deep and direct. As I answered their questions, I started noticing I was sounding like a broken record. I began asking myself, “Do I actually believe that? Was that the truth?” I started questioning my whole life.

On the last day of the festival, they set one of the art pieces on fire in celebration. As I watched it burn, it began falling apart, and I couldn’t help but feel that I was doing the same. I was running through the questions in my head and thought, “If I don’t believe in those things, then what do I believe in? And if I am not who I think I am, then…who am I?” It was like an explosion happened inside of me. I fell to my knees and began weeping. The whole way home from the festival, a million things ran through my head. I was filled with both wonder and fear. When I got home, there my life was, just the way I left it, but something was different—I was different. I began asking those same questions to the people around me, and no one wanted to hear it. They looked at me as if I was crazy. Things started to become more painful, and my life unbearable. I needed someone to come and save me. When was God going to save me?

Things were only getting worse. So, I started meditating to get myself centered, I began doing art, and I connected with people from the art festival. I could feel my heart again. I was finding myself caught between two worlds—one I wanted to be in and the other I didn’t want any part of.

One day, I got in the car to meet a friend for lunch and found a bee on my steering wheel. I opened the window and tried to shoo it out, but it flew in circles around the car. “Silly bee,” I thought, “doesn’t it know I opened the window so it could get out?” Then it hit me like lightning. I was the bee.

No one was coming to save me. I wasn’t trapped—the window was open. The only thing keeping me stuck was my fear of the unknown. It was then that I realized I was the one I was waiting for. I was the captain of my ship, and I had some rough waters ahead. I needed to tell some uncomfortable truths and make some bold moves. I knew what I needed to do; I just needed to find the courage, so I did.