trust; fear

Today I climbed, and subsequently jumped off of, a 50-foot rock into crystal clear water in the Gulf of Thailand.

It was thrilling; it was fun; it was one of the coolest things I’ve done.

Getting up there was hard. Lots of climbing and trying not to fall to a scary death. It required trust in myself–something that’s grown stronger over the past few months. Trusting my body in my yoga practice. Trusting my ability to navigate the difficult situations that inevitably arise when traveling. Trusting myself to drive a motorbike 200 km through hills and dirt roads. Trusting my ability to climb mountains, make shit happen, get what I want, and keep myself safe.

This trip has also chipped away at my fears. As a child I was often afraid: afraid to fall, afraid to die, afraid to offend. As a society we are afraid of change, scared to leave our comfortable yet unsatisfying lives in pursuit of the unknown. But I’m not afraid anymore.

So I jumped. Towards my fearless travel partner, towards new friends encouraging and coaching me in their British accents, towards life! The fall was so long that it allowed a good long “oh shit” moment. I crashed hard. It was awesome.

Travel opens your eyes to the world, but it also opens your eyes to your own power. A certain level of caution is healthy, yes. But after this trip I am confident in my abilities to get through whatever life may throw my way. I know that I can achieve whatever the hell I decide that I want. I know what I’m capable of. And I’m not afraid to live. So live I will.

And yes, mom and dad, I promise to make it to Rome in one piece.

Here is an instagrammed picture of an island.


Go forth and set the world on fire.

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