Last week I answered the call of the wild and hopped on a flight to Alaska to visit a friend I hadn’t seen for a few years. Part of me loves that adrenaline that comes along with being on the verge of taking a risk; it feels hot in my veins and tingles in my palms. The sane quarter of my psyche immediately thinks of all the things that could go wrong. What if I over sleep my alarm and miss my flight? What if I break my phone in a freak accident and can’t get home? What if I get swallowed by a whale? I’m absolutely plagued by worries, I don’t know how I make it out my front door at times. Nevertheless, adventure awaits and I have a drive to keep moving that I can’t ignore.
So, there I am with my twenty pairs of leggings and a dope playlist waiting on the first red eye to a place I’ve never been to before. This risk paid off this time with some incredible memories to tide me over until my next adventure. In Fairbanks, I had the opportunity to not only completely forget what day and time it was for a week straight but also to have some nifty outdoor experiences. My adventure buddies and I got to float the river through town one day, which was extraordinary. The water was freezing, but so was the beer, and we came equipped with a water proof speaker to set the mood. It really impressed me how unique and individual each house we floated past was. Many of them were interesting pastel colors with vibrant gardens containing bigger and more striking versions of varieties that I’m familiar with from Texas. Besides a few random wandering hikes, we also made a stop at Chena hot springs. That day was a little chilly and rainy, and the dichotomy between the super-hot natural Sulfur water and the cold rain drops was a perfectly surreal moment.
Fast forwarding to now, I can only describe it as feeling like a deflated balloon. You go do something cool and are inflated with a sense of awe and excitement, but then you return to normal life. The balloon slowly deflates on the flight home, no matter how much you love and appreciate the people who make up day to day life. As the saying goes, “Everyone wants happiness; no one wants pain. But you can’t have a rainbow without a little rain.” I’m not pessimistic enough to truly feel that every day is pain, but every day certainly isn’t a vacation in Alaska. So, what now? It is very possible that I should not have quit my full time job to prioritize entrepreneurship and travel. Maybe I won’t have enough money for rent in a few months. Even though part of me is panicking thinking of all the things that could go wrong, I’ve already gotten on the plane. The decisions have been made and the path is set, I’m just not sure where this adventure will take me.