Okay. So I'm slightly freaking out. It appears that I have the opportunity to actually go for my dream. And so I stop and wonder, did I really think this dream through? Did I analyze it enough? Did I get enough outsiders opinions to validate that this indeed is the correct dream for me and I should not alter it?
Still sounds dreamy, eh? The reality of going for your dream is so much less romantic than the dream itself. It's panic filled and scary. It's full of second guessing, and crunching numbers, and leaping so far out of your comfort zone you have no idea if your falling or flying.
And yet, if I don't go for it, how could I ever look back at my ten year old self and say, yeah, this is what you become later... A coward, too afraid to go for it.
Of course there is a middle, safer route: I could spend the next five years planning, saving, educating myself and go into this with a firmer step. Yes, that is probably the smart option. And yet, somehow I know that if I don't take this opportunity now, it may never come again. Or I may not grab it the next time it comes around.
But really, I feel that if I am to uproot my children and start a whole new lifestyle with them, it should be as soon as possible. My son is almost six. He has lost two teeth and is starting to form lasting memories. It will never get easier, only harder.
My dear friend who works with clay gave me this beautiful analogy: She said that our souls, neshamas, are like clay in this world. Death is the kiln. We are ever forming through our speech, thought and action.
This feels so true. But I think there is more. I believe that as we age we lose moisture and the clay gets more and more stiff. My children are more pliable now than they will ever be. I want to use that to their advantage. I want to offer them a different kind of life. And the sooner I start, the more they will be formed to see the world in a wholly different way. Hopefully a more holistic, organic and simple way than conventional city life offers.
Sometimes I am shocked to see that any lessons I try to instill in them actually get through. As my mother (known simply as nana) turned to my son and said, "Let us thank Hashem for this great thing that happened," my son replied, "The best way to thank Hashem is by being the best Nana you can be."
I mean, wow.
And yet, I am scared. So scared that my making a mistake will cost them their childhoods. Scared that I won't be able to provide for them what an established community can. I am scared I am not enough.
Maybe it's true. Maybe I'm not. If so, I hope that, as I have the courage to take this leap in life now, Hashem will also give me the courage to admit that to myself later. Until then I say...
1. I made it another day alone with three sick kids in the house
2. An opportunity to give of myself to the world
3. Hot running water
4. The ability to talk to loved ones on the phone
5. The way my baby opens his mouth desperately wide anytime something comes even remotely near
6. How I feel every time I stop and make a gratitude list