First, I want to say hello to all you lovelies coming over from Story of my Life! Don’t you just la-la-love Jenni? I sure do! SOML is one of the first blogs I started reading and I don’t miss a post. Her pictures, her love story, her candidness, all so inspiring. Anywho, I’m so glad you came over to visit me! I’m newer to blogging, but I try to keep things interesting around here. I am obsessed with social media and communications, being inspired, Diet Pepsi, glitter, the beach, and life in general. I write about inspiring women, life experiences, my idiot moments, and pretty much whatever is going on in my head. Alright, lets get into it.
My favorite part of each dance class was when we would practice things across the floor. Specifically leaps. I loved them! I loved that I could get so high in the air. I loved that my legs were so long, I could make it all the way across the room in less leaps than the other girls. I loved the way it looked. And I loved the way it felt. There was something so freeing about flying through the air, making it across the floor with my feet only touching for second. I loved feeling so weightless. I was fearless in those moments flying through the air. It felt as though I was born with springs on my feet and wings on my back. I was fearless. I was free. I followed my heart and didn’t worry about how things would work out. I knew I would land on solid ground and that I would get to my destination (which at that point was only the other side of the room).
That same mentality stayed with me for years. I took on adventure like I still had springs and wings. Then I became an adult and something changed. I don’t know if it was the hard life lessons, the bills or the loss of confidence in myself, but something made me lose that fearlessness. After all, it was all those leaps across the dance floor that ruined my knees.
These days, the word leap doesn’t feel the same somehow. There is more fear there. At this point in my life, someone says leap and I think about changes and about risks. However, it still eludes to a level of freedom. Freedom that in many ways I am a little afraid of. I have grown to appreciate the monotony of the repetition in my daily life. It’s safe. It’s quiet. But ultimately, it’s boring.
For too long I have stayed away from both leaps and freedom. I think it’s about time to take a jump. The only problem is I’m a little afraid that my wings have forgotten how to fly. There are a lot of variables. There are a lot of risks. But it might just be time to leap again. Worst case scenario I can always build new wings on the way down.