What If

My stomach skipped a beat as I realized that I leave for the Dominican Republic next week.  I'm not sure what was making me feel a little anxious...

...The fact that I just now realized that it's hot there, which means packing becomes a LOT more difficult when you don't have any summer clothes (the majority got thrown away at the end of the season...long story)...

Or was it the fact that I couldn't remember which airline I booked my ticket with...so I'm on a frantic search trying to locate that ticket...

Maybe it's the fact that I have a million and a half things to do before I go and I planned a trip home right smack dab in the middle of my chaos and the longing for my "soft place" is overriding my logic to cancel the weekend...

It could be that when asked where the Dominican Republic is, I realized I'd never even taken the time to look it up on the map!  Apparently, it shares an island with Haiti...all I knew is that I needed my passport and some SPF 30.  The important things, right? :)

...maybe it's because I know I have to either ride the train at 3:00am with the drunks or brave another taxi at that time in the morning.  I have a fear of taxi drivers...I've been told it's irrational.  What?! An irrational fear? Never. 


Maybe it's because I'm afraid of what I'm going to have to face...the goals I'm going to have to set...the risks I'm going to take.  I'm going to What If...it's a conference for creatives, and all I really know about it is that "It'll change your life".  Statements like that always half terrify and thrill me.  I'll be honest, I feel a little exhausted in the risk-taking department.  I want to tell myself, "You've taken enough for now.  You've pushed hard enough...you can coast for a while"...but coasting has a way of getting a hold of me.  I don't want to get too comfortable with getting too comfortable.  I want to push hard enough that I could fall.  I want to reach far enough that the stretch hurts.  I want to keep pushing forward enough that I feel tired.

Yeah, my stomach skipped a beat this morning when I realized that I leave for the Dominican Republic next week.  But I read that sentence back to myself...I'm a photographer.  I'm living in Chicago.  I love what I do...and I'm going to the Dominican Republic in a week.  If that's the result of taking risks and following God's hand...I'll do it every. single. time.