Today I sent an email to one of the schools I’m considering, asking for more information about an upcoming web seminar for prospective students. This sounds tiny, but I fretted about it for a couple of days because, talking to strangers, and explaining my crazy, and setting aside the reality that what admissions agents do is deal with questions from prospective students who don’t know what they’re doing and need guidance, I still have a lot of internal resistance to asking anyone for help or attention. I think on some level I still expect not to receive any.
From time to time I have trouble believing I’m seriously considering this path, that I might even somehow actually walk it. Too much thought, and it seems impossible – too many risks, too many unknowns, too many bewildering details and so far outside what I was expecting to do with my life at this point that I imagine I may be making the whole thing up.
It is fortunate that things which are real do not require being believed in to continue being real. I don’t have to believe it, I just have to keep taking little baby steps in a useful direction, and trust that there will be something to step on when I can’t see where I’m going.
An old story, something I’ve recently put else-net, but which belongs here too:
There were three seekers on a pilgrimage and as they were walking they came to a lake.
With no hesitation the first seeker stepped out from the shore and walked straight across the lake to the far side.
The second seeker hesitated, amazed, then slowly stepped out and walked, one uncertain step at a time, to join the first seeker on the far shore.
The third seeker also hesitated, then squared shoulders and stepped out from the shore, straight into the lake with a splash. Coming up with a gasp the seeker then splashed and struggled all the way to the far shore and flopped up like a fish where the first two were waiting.
“How did you -do- that?!” the third seeker asked accusingly.
The second seeker replied, “Didn’t you see the stepping stones?”
The first seeker in turn looked puzzled. “What stepping stones?”