My last semester of college seemed, at the time, to be a total tempest of confusion. I’m sure that’s not an uncommon statement; for your final few months as a dependent to be somewhat of a mind warp. It’s this undefinable, crazy sense of unknown; uncertainty, pressure, and obstacles of forced resiliency wrapped sweetly in the promise of a fresh start. I can remember sitting at my weekly wine nights, surrounded by consistently supportive girlfriends, feeling the wind of winter creeping in; and thinking how horribly not-ready I was for graduation. But ironically enough, those very same winds brought me closer to the idea of adulthood. To the realness of beginning my life – to becoming the person I knew I was meant to become. It is the most terrifying, and yet exciting feeling a person can lean into.

Beginnings are scary. Beginnings are impatient. We see where we want to be and we recognize the process of being there, and yet we cannot avoid the fear that creeps in with them. The vulnerability of being ourselves, of soul-searching, of having to boldly face decisions head-on; that’s some scary shit. The thought of entering a season totally unprepared, unsure of whether or not we’re appropriately equipped. What if we don’t have what we need? What then? Who will help us?

Two short years later, I’m a little bit jealous of my past, approaching-graduation, always questioning self. I can see now that the anticipation of life was so much more than a phase, or some naive self-fulfilling prophecy. It was a legitimate, valid point in life. It’s this person inside each of us that’s able to feel both hope and fear at the same time. It’s this nonverbal agreement of innocence we’re all just sort of inept to. It’s intentionally leaving things up to the universe because we know that the future is sometimes beyond our control. And when else do we let that happen outside of our distrust in the weather forecast?

Beginnings are beautiful, actually. They are created by the same purity inside each of us that is unafraid to climb the monkey bars. They are the pieces of us that crave adventure and avoid monotony. Beginnings are the only kind of scary we are willing to truly embrace as an adult, and mostly because they are easier to justify. A new career, a move, a life change – we explain it as if it needs explaining. When in reality, we are really only searching for that cold air creeping its’ way in mid-fall. The unknown. The fresh start. The mind warp.

One of my high school teachers was a huge advocate of hindsight being our clearest vision, but I always felt it was an insult to our present day self. I can see now, (pun intended), that it’s true. And she was totally right. My almost-graduated self had it all figured out just in knowing that she didn’t have anything figured out. She was leaving things up to the powers at be and trusting that she would get there when she was meant to get there. She was embracing the change and saying yes to scary. Say yes to things. Do the things that don’t make sense. See the good in possibility and be open to it exceeding expectations. Embrace the beginning of the unknown. Participate in the scary.

I love the change of seasons for all of these things. I love starting a new adventure and letting myself really feel those new winds. I love being unsure of where something is headed and being okay with that; because isn’t that what life is anyway? Feel that cold wind and don’t run away from it. Look it right in the face and be sure that it’s bound to take you places. Scary, unknown, downright beautiful places.

2 Replies to “The Beauty of Beginnings”

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