Doors Left Ajar

A door left ajar
lets whispering from afar
breath life into... a dream of me and you

I will the spark to die
But still it lights my eye
Still makes me feel that this alone is real

And though I know it
I dare not show it... or let this madness makes a kill
By dwelling on what might have been
Or giving sadness space to fill
I'll balance on the edge a while but won't... fall in

I am sitting in Dresden listening to the rather haunting voice of Silje Nergaard and bemoaning the end of this beautifully lyric summer I have had. In three days, the coach will turn back into a pumpkin and it will all be over. While I deeply love home and my friends there, and I am super excited to meet my new nephew, Jaxon, part of me wants to hole up in a remote corner of Germany and stay. I am aware, even as I type these words, that they sound incredibly selfish, that many people will never have the chance to experience even a small corner of the world, but my desire to exercise humility and gratitude does not cover the truth of the matter.

This world is an expanse of goodness, the kind that swallows you whole. And I, in turn, want to devour it. It really is ravenous, this feeling I have about the world. I want to inhale and embrace and consume every bit of it that I can. It is insatiable, this desire in me. So why, I wonder, can I not actually take the plunge and leave the comfort of home? I often think about teaching in remote regions of the world or working for an NGO for a while or even joining the foreign service (this one is Jay's fault), but when it comes down to it, I "balance on the edge" but don't fall in.

Often, when I am in the mountains, I stand on the edge of cliffs and look over the edge as far as I can without falling. I like the rush of it, the high upness of it, the risk of it. But I always know that I won't go far enough to fall over. Certainly, in the mountains that is wisdom, but in life? Is traveling the world my version of standing on the edge of the cliff? I get the thrill but never have to take the plunge. I think that is it. For all my wandering heart speaks of the world and its greatness, I am still a scared little girl.

This is not easy to admit. I like to believe that I am part super woman, but tonight I was reminded that I am not. Tonight, I allowed a raw edge to be exposed and, while I am better for it, I also am more acutely aware of my fear to take big jumps, to risk when risking matters. I don't know what the future holds. I can barely see beyond today, but I want to be fearless about whatever it is. I want to always leave the door ajar for something greater than I can imagine, even if it lets in memories or sadness or fear. I want to remember that light seen in doorways and through cracks in windows and from around corners is powerful enough to cut the darkness that I may imagine in the idea of change. I have grown so much in the past 6 weeks, but I realize that I am only on the edge of the abyss, looking down, waiting for my wings.