The restless adventurer within me stands eye-to-eye with the fear that has stepped directly in my path. And the thing I absolutely must not do is to blink first.

We are all on a journey. But if it’s not the journey to which we were called, we’ve confused a journey with a panicked retreat.

Too often what we’ve defined as our calling is in fact the strategy that we have crafted as a means of running from our calling.

For the frightened, running in a circle is the illusion of a journey.

I might define a ‘journey’ as something that life itself calls me to. And I might then define a ‘trip’ as something I create to avoid a journey by mimicking a journey. And while fear is most certainly part and parcel of both, the latter is emboldened by fear while the former surrenders to it.

We will understand the depth of our vision when at some point we are finally faced with the price we must pay to achieve it. And when the price comes calling, most visions end up falling.

What I have defined as a destination is most often the place I just happened to end up at. And where I just happen to end up at is not a destination in any sense of any word that I know. Rather, it is a life never lived because it was a life never planned.

If I am living out a lesser version of myself, I have allowed the fear of ‘who I could be’ to fall prey to the apathy of ‘who I am.’ And if ‘what I could be’ dies the death of cowardice, ‘who I am’ never really lived at all.

Life is a journey of both finding our destination and fearing it all at same glorious time, for such a vigorous juxtaposition suggests the glory of the destination.