One day a voice inside me said:
“This is not what your life is for.”
And, against the odds, I listened.
I said, “Well, voice, what is it for?”
The voice said, “You know.”
The voice said it softly, because she knew I was afraid.
She said, “You know, sweet honey love baby. I don’t need to tell you.”
And because I did not want an unlived life,
and because it was so much easier
to give up everything I had
then to give up everything I could be,
I said, “Yes, I know.
But I cried it like a little prayer.
I cried it like a child.
I whispered, “How?”
The voice said, “Just start.”
I asked, “But what comes next?”
The voice said, “That does not matter now.”
And off I stepped into the unknown.
Some people asked, “Why?”
Some people said, “Who do you think you are?”
I said to the voice, “I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
But the voice said, “Shhh, keep going.”
So I kept going.
I kept going.
And somewhere in the canyons in Peru, the waterfalls of Argentina, the dusty roads of India;
Somewhere amongst the white-capped peaks of Nepal,
I realized I wasn’t scared anymore.
“Just keep going,” said the voice.
So I did.
I’m still going.