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It started as my brave little move. Divorce finalized. Job applications out to transfer away from everything that had become the norm for me. Starting over sounded absolutely AWESOME!
Job search successful, I had three weeks to move me and Chipmunk to sunny San Diego. Not hard, right? Thankfully, my brother was stoked to fly in to Texas so we could drive back to California (he was living there already).
We road tripped from Central Texas, through New Mexico and Arizona. He took over, wisely, before we entered California. Growing up in Little Rock, AR, I thought I understood a little bit about traffic. My humble hometown in Texas softened me to smaller town traffic, southern hospitalities.
NEVER had I EVER experienced what we encountered my first few miles into the new state I would soon call home.
People used their cars the way rude people elbowed in a mosh pit. Horns honked. We got pulled over and asked, by border patrol agents at a check point, if we had any foreign fruits or vegetables. I suppose having my car packed to the hilt made us a little suspect. Five lanes of freeway didn't seem enough to contain the cars, trucks and diesels. Crotch rockets and Harley bikes zipped between the rest of us stuck standing still. My brother handled it all with grace.
I wailed my head off! I can laugh now, but the fear just erupted into some pathetic cry. I'm thankful Chipmunk was too young to remember mommy's breakdown.
We arrived to our destination where my brother rolled on the floor laughing as I seriously re-considered my decision to move to San Diego. It was all too much after dealing with so little by comparison. Small town life cooed at me all that day. I still had a chance to change my mind, make other arrangements, go back to what I knew.
But I didn't surrender to the fear. I cried. Yes, that I did a lot those first 24 hours. But the next day, I literally grabbed the fear and moved it away. I could go back. But I didn't want to. And I'm glad I didn't. Had I surrendered to my fear I would never have met Will Greenway in person. Never got a chance to participate in the best ever writing critique group.
My toes still miss the tingle of warm sand though I've been back in Texas for three years. Surrendering to fear would have cost me some great times and great friends. I'm so glad that in that moment, I didn't surrender.
Do you have a time where you didn't surrender? A task that seemed daunting, an event seemingly beyond your ability to handle? Maybe those last two pounds you never thought you could shed?