Graduate Trust, Outgrow Faith

February 9, 2013

It happened to me twice, in this life:

First time when I was about to graduate from high school. There is enormous test to pass before one is allowed to apply to college. I was afraid I would fail it. I sat on my bed, I remember, with a friend. I was telling her how, should I fail the test, should I find myself unable to go to college, I did not know what I would do!

I was terrified. Petrified with fear. I could not envision, I could not imagine a future should I fail the test. There was a blank, black wall where the rest of my life should be and it was crushing me, it was destroying me with it’s blankness. I Was sure the blankness meant death.

I could not stand it.

It happened for the second time, eighteen years later, when I was about to leave California and move to France. I was packing, preparing and organizing. My head was full of plans, appointments, tasks, chores, yet none of it reached beyond boarding the plane. There was nothing past that moment.

I could  not imagine, I could not envision my life in France. There was a blank wall where the rest of my life should be and … it felt right.

It felt right and natural that my life would happen in a moment and that the next moment would bring a different life.

It felt normal, natural and right that the opportunities would be beyond my mind’s ability to imagine. It felt right for me not to know what will happen next.

It felt right, and I liked it.

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