I have loved being a part of the Calhoun Times. With only a few work days left, I grew anxious about losing the privilege to write about the great people of our community.
I worried about it, I prayed about it, and I ran about it. The confidence to move forward came with a recent run on the Calhoun Recreation Trail. The Rec is one of my favorite places to purge problems. Thanks to SPLOST dollars, I can park on either side of the Oothcalooga and run more than two miles of road and trail without retracing a step.
This particular day followed several heavy rains and I was eager to get outside. Jogging along the trail, I thought about the sacrifices I have made for work and the ones that would come without it.
Coping with this change would require a lot of problem purging on the trail. My pace quickened when I tried to imagine life without my beloved beat. Will they miss me? How will I adjust to an agenda that doesn’t include board meetings, graduation and AYP reports?
As if on cue, I ran smack dab into a large body of floodwater stretched across the usual path. I stopped, shin deep in murky, unfathomable overflow uncertain of my footing and what floated between my destination and me.
The situation quickly applied itself.
In my minds eye I was surrounded by four excellent superintendents, several administrators and countless staff waving me onward with confidence. Before me I saw the chance to not only be a writer but also a good mother, wife and friend.
I decided without hesitation to keep going certain that what awaited on the other side would be worth it.
I plunged on through awkwardly, in a comical but accurate dance interpretation of the delta symbol in action, one part acrobatics, and two parts leap of faith.
As I "squished, squished, squished" along my route undeterred and strutting like a panicked moose, I laughed out loud. I understood the importance of being fearless in the face of change.
Even though the future is scary without my job and those I admire, it is still where I want to go. In the long run, come hell or in this case high water, life goes on and so must I. Sometimes a leap of faith is all it takes.