Weighing the options

A burning bush would have been nice.
Maybe a break in the clouds, a burst of sunrays and a booming voice.
Giving me all the answers to life’s little questions.
Through nearly 60 miles of Wyoming’s backcountry, with more than 10,000 feet (3,048 meters for our metric friends) of vertical climbing with a 47-pound pack on my back.
Time. Lots and lots of time.
And not a single of life’s problems or challenges got solved.
By either burning bush or my own gray matter.
Only the realization that I’m going to have to make-or-break things all on my own. And there are options that I’m going to have to consider.

I love my job. I’m good at it. No, I’m great at it.
I could stay here, ride things out, and be OK. There is comfort here. Not much risk. But the rewards? I dunno. I really don’t know if there are enough to satisfy.

I could take another job in journalism or communications. It’s a small step. With risks. Starting over in a new town, a new state even. The rewards? Unknown. A fresh start, I guess. New challenges. A chance to grow as a writer.

Graduate school. A masters of fine arts degree in creative writing. Now there’s a leap of faith. Huge risks. Stop my life for three years, live in near poverty and work my ass off to create a novel. And then what? What happens after? Another transition. Another search for the next thing (what if I can’t cut it as a novelist?) The rewards? A graduate degree (which my mother always wished of me). A novel. The chance to prove myself. The real chance to grow as a writer. Under the tutelage of other writers.

I don’t feel paralyzed by my life right now. That’s the weird thing. I just feel tired.
I am curious to see what happens, see how things shake out and unfold.
Let the ripples reverberate on The Tension.

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