Go For It

Geoffrey always says this phrase, "Go for it." I'll say... "Geoffrey, I'm gonna beat you in cello some day." And he'll just laugh and say, "Okay Christina. Go for it!" I'll say, "I'm foreal. One day, you'll see!" And he'll be like "Oookay. Go for it!" After awhile the phrase caught on with me and I kept finding myself saying, "Go for it!" "Go for it, Sandra!" "Go for it, Bria!" "Go for it!" "Go for it!" "Go for it!" I guess it was sort of ironic? Maybe hypocritical too.. since I was always telling everyone else to take that great gigantic leap of faith, even if I never really wanted to...

I talked to Connie tonight (about all the little things we girls like to talk about -hehe-), and I had this incredible sense of urgency for doing something. Something BIG. Something risky. Something really out-of-character for me. (Even MORE scary than Friday the 13th. Even MORE scary than cockroaches.) I had this sudden urge to GO FOR IT. Not sort-of go for it. Foreal go for it. No holding back. Straight-jumping-off-an-airplane-from-a-billion-feet-with-one-parachute-no-back-up-safety kind of go for it. After listening to Connie's story of all the little puzzle peices coming together, I couldn't help but think that maybe (just maybe) something like that was in store for me.

And I guess it was kind of strange. Because for one, I'm not really that type of person people would call "spontaneous" or "wild" or "extremely interesting." Because honestly, if I had to be brutally honest with myself and everyone else, I would just say that I'm just quite fairly average. Quirky. And perhaps a little "unique." But average. Like the plain-ole-Jane-type.

But I guess that was just it! I was sick of complacency. Sick of boredom. Sick of feeling like "something was missing." And "playing it safe" all the time. I didn't want to feel like I was unsatisfied with my life. I wanted to put myself out there and live this HUMONGOUS world of ours. This frightenting, yet exciting world of adventure and surprises and presents and etc...

See, I wanted to be brave. Really brave. Because as much hope as I had for the future, the fact was: life was now. And I couldn't keep living 10 ten years from now. College, career, freakn husband... that was just way beyond. And maybe playing it "safe" was the smarter choice. But I was sick of being "smart" and analyzing every detail. Because I always did that. And I wanted to spice things up. Have a little bit of change.

So I guess it went back to that whole concept of vulnerability again. I guess I really admired people who weren't afraid to look stupid. Even if they were loud and obnoxious or whatever. At least THEY didn't have to live with the "I wonder what would have happened" thoughts. At least they knew and could just say straight up- Even though that was a terrible mistake, I've moved on.

So at that sudden epiphanical moment (as I was listening to Connie tell me about HER great leap of faith), I realized that I couldn't keep going on the way I was going. I had to let myself be vulnerable for once. Because until I did. I would never ever really feel truly sad or truly happy. It would always be lukewarm. And I hate lukewarm water.

I guess it was like... a big GIGANTIC sundae. I just wanted to taste it. I mean ya, it probably had like a bazillion calories, and probably at some point I would totally regret eating it all up... But at least, for a couple bites, for a few several spontaneous moments, I would be able to say, "Dang, this is the best thing I've ever tasted. Dang, I've been missing out." And then, then, I would finally understand I would finally know what it's like to just jump off-