Leaving the Stuff....

She climbed into the driver’s seat, buckled the seatbelt, and turned the key in the ignition. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes: an attempt to absorb and flash-freeze the last five years of her life in a moment’s time. Friends, memories, mistakes, lessons, books, exams, boyfriends, breakups, smiles, tears, frustrations, nightmares, successes, victories… Five years, and only seemingly passing in the blink of an eye. Regrets? None…most of the time. Sometimes she’d catch herself looking back, thinking back to certain things, certain times and wondering what if? What if this? What if that?

Bella’s crying brought her back to the moment at present. Looking back at her little kitten, pasting on the face of an innocent prisoner staring through the merciless bars of her carrier, her heart chirped. This would definitely be an interesting ride. Hopefully the sedatives from the vet would be effective; otherwise, the next fifteen hours were going to be worse than Japanese water torture.

The carrier was crammed like a brick between box upon box in the back seat of the little Saturn; clothes, bags, and other such things the mortar holding the whole mess together. Her driver’s seat was pulled up as close as possible to the steering wheel without her knees at her chin. This was one of those unusual times that she didn’t appreciate the long legs inherited from her father.

Taking one last look at the townhouse that had been her home for just a short three months, she took inventory of the things she’d been forced to leave behind. The volunteers at the local Salvation Army were probably sorting through her boxes, awed, flabbergasted, and possibly inspired, at the things she was willing to not only part with, but donate - willing being a term used rather loosely. But pondering on it all, it was just stuff. Stuff that could be replaced. Stuff that wasn’t necessary to survive. Stuff she could leave behind and still go on. Stuff that other people could make better use of. Face forward, she told herself. Face forward.

Five years… And now she was – what? Grown up? An adult? A professional? Amazing how college can teach you so many things, but hardly prepare you for the dead time that was the breach between graduation and employment, she thought. In five years, she’d seen and learned more through life experiences than any classroom osmosis could have offered. Wars, elections, terrorist attacks, school shootings, neighborhood murder, natural disasters, technological advances far beyond her own comprehension. These were the examples she would look back on and say “I was there when…”, or “ I remember when…”. Not sitting in some classroom learning about the habits of pre-civilization clans in Africa, or the epic flaws of monumental characters from historic literature. But a piece of paper was what she had worked for all these years… A simple, signed and dated piece of paper framed in leather binding.

Now she was moving on. She was pursuing a dream. Insecurities, doubts, questions all flooded her mind at every turn, at every job application. Was she fulfilling what she was created to do? There was only one way to find out. Taking that leap of faith, that blind step, was the only way to truly discover the answers to those questions.

She pulled car’s gear shift from park into drive, and slowly rolled out of the townhouse driveway. Goodbye South Carolina – Boston, here she comes. This was the first leap.