I walked carefully, cautiously up the awkward wooden stairs built into the hill that are much too spaced out from each other. Especially when wearing high heels. I followed my friend up the hill in the dark, the wooden stairs end and it’s just dirt. He held his phone light behind him as he climbed, lighting my path so I didn’t break my ankle climbing a steep hill in heels. The hill got steeper as we went up, I grabbed onto a fence near the path to help me climb the rest of the way.
Flat ground, a field at the top of a hill. We kept walking, in the distance came a glowing light from below, we walked through the field toward the light until we came to edge of the mountain. My breath left my lungs.
There, was Los Angeles. Like scattered gold dust lit on fire–shining on infinitely.
If you had asked me two years ago what my “Five Year Plan” was it would have looked standard. Education, marriage, kids. That life looked pretty great, still does look great from time to time. But something in the last couple of years shook me to my core, rearranged my thoughts, opened my eyes to life bigger than I’d imagined…
Now I laugh at Five Year Plans.
Now I know “single” is not a four-letter word.
Now I embrace chaos as something to sort out, not panic over.
Now I look at people like they are as vital to this life as I am, if not more.
Now I see loneliness as an opportunity to pursue deeper friendships.
Now I view fear as a choice not an inevitability.
Now I live like a woman who believes I offer more than the ability to grow things in my uterus and cry at the drop of a pin.
Now I sleep out of need not habit.
Now I believe dreams are worth believing in.
I stood at the edge of the mountain looking at Los Angeles thinking about how two years ago this moment was most definitely not in my Five Year Plan, I laughed. Laughed at how much I limited my own dreaming. And I was so thankful that the ground had been ripped out from under me in the last couple of years or I wouldn’t have been standing there.