On ten months-

Ten.

Ten months.

It has been ten months since I moved to the Far East of this planet. 

In ten months I have forgotten, missed, failed, succeeded, befriended, unfriended, loved, learned and relearned-- my goodness, I have relearned.

But there's always this one thing. A continuous nagging that tugs most of all.

Each month I get messages from friends, more often acquaintances I've accumulated throughout the years; they are all asking the same question articulated in a different way.

How did you know? How did you figure it out?

I can only respond in this truth. The truth I know. I don't know what the heck I'm doing, really.  

Simply through knowing what I absolutely cannot bear to do, and then not doing it, I've lived my way into that which I was meant to.

I didn't always believe it or know it at first, but I am realizing more and more each day as I live and experience and grow and fail and succeed and love--I was meant for this. For this time now. I was meant to live in this land and meet these people and fall in love. All of this is evidence that every single day I have ever lived was preparation.

And this. This is merely preparation for what is to come. 

Whatever that thing is you've been pondering, planning dreaming, writing on...

Do it.

“I have come to accept the feeling of not knowing where I am going. And I have trained myself to love it. Because it is only when we are suspended in mid-air with no landing in sight, that we force our wings to unravel and alas begin our flight. And as we fly, we still may not know where we are going to. But the miracle is in the unfolding of the wings. You may not know where you're going, but you know that so long as you spread your wings, the winds will carry you.”  ― C. JoyBell C.