I will never be ready for the next big jump. 

But I still choose to jump with both feet in.  And I guess so many of those moments that have shaped who I am today were results of those seemingly random decisions. 

Should I spend 4 months in a country I know nothing about, with people I barely even know? Or should I just stay home? Should I climb a mountain? Should I change jobs? 

It might not have always been comfortable, and most of the time, I do question myself and my sanity. But at the end of the day, I’m glad.  

I’m glad because despite those vulnerable moments when I’m at my weakest and feel the most helpless, I come out a little bit stronger, knowing myself a little bit better. I’m glad because I am my own person, that I was able to make those decisions by myself for myself, that I take responsibility for my actions. 

And I guess it’s only fitting that I’m writing this now, 6 years after making that decision to hop on a plane and set out on one of life’s greatest adventures. But you know what’s funny? I realized it gets harder as I get older. Fear creeps in and suddenly I find myself hesitating a little bit more than I did before. Suddenly, I start doubting myself and what I think I’m capable of.

Isn’t it that as we grow older, we’re supposed to be more logical and therefore less afraid? That we know that there is nothing to fear but fear itself? So how come we start thinking of those what-ifs that probably never crossed your mind a few years back? 

As the years add on, I don’t ever want to lose that feeling that the world is mine to conquer, that anything is possible, and that nothing is too great for me to achieve. 

May we never lose that spark and that sense of adventure. Cheers!