This weekend I camped for the first time, went whitewater rafting over some Class V rapids, and jumped off a 30-foot rock cliff. (No big deal.) I haven’t done anything this ballsy in a while, but it seems to coincide with a general revival of my inner thrill junkie and risk addict. There is a strong possibility this will get me in glorious trouble some time soon.
There’s a move in whitewater rafting that involves one side of the raft rowing forward while the other rows backward. The raft doesn’t move forward, but spins on a dime to go in another direction. That’s a bit what I feel like I’m doing right now, burning both ends of the candle to get where I ultimately want to go. New job possibilities and rejiggering my current work to taper off. Don’t know what but some change is coming, and I have to reach for it while simultaneously divesting myself of old baggage. This could be interesting.