Tag: trust

Going Solo

carissaricci

You know that phrase, “Wherever you go, there you are”? That used to hold such a negative connotation for me—as if I had to drag the heavy luggage filled with all of my pain and trauma behind me for the rest of my life with no escape. At some point along the way, I reframed it. It was no longer about fighting against who I am, but embracing it. One of life’s many great ironies.

I began to take each piece of clothing out of that luggage and make friends with parts of myself that I had previously tried to shove out of sight. In grappling with that process, I’ve found a peace and calm in my life that I didn’t think I could have. Does that mean everything’s perfect and I feel like that all the time? No way. It’s an ongoing process. I often have to grab that luggage, sit on the floor, slide the zippers, fling it open, and redouble my efforts to accept all the pieces inside.

To help me take the leap, I planned a trip—a big one.

For most of my life, I’ve been waiting for someone to give me permission to be who I am, to accept myself, and to do the things I know are right for me. Why? Because it feels safer to walk that road…even if it means not living life to the fullest. I’ve decided I’m no longer willing to make that sacrifice. The latest chapter in my story has been asking me to take a different way. To honor my truest self. To craft my own path and write my story in a way that honors my deepest longing.  

To help me take the leap, I planned a trip—a big one. I offered a few different friends the opportunity to join me, but it didn’t end up working out. I wasn’t necessarily planning to do it solo, but something deep down within me knew that it needed to be. As my departure date approached, I found myself feeling grateful. A few years ago, I wouldn’t have imagined doing something like this by myself, but lately, the yearning to explore has continued to knock at the door—louder and louder. And the thought of having the freedom to wander in my own way was eagerly beckoning.

To give myself even more of a challenge to step outside my comfort zone, I booked a few nights in a hostel dorm. I had no idea what to expect, but it has been one of my favorite experiences so far. So many kind humans have crossed my path, willing to share their tips and recommendations and allowing me to return the favor with my suggestions. After hitting it off with one particular dorm mate, we ended up spending the afternoon together on a trip down the river and then grabbed a bite to eat while swapping life stories and travel tales. One of many beautiful moments that will stay with me long after the trip ends.

The evening before, our hostel hosted a folk dancing night. Normally, this is something where I’d sit on the sidelines to enjoy it. But not here. Not only was I invited in, but I genuinely wanted to be part of it. There was so much joy and laughter exploding out of that room as we swung each other around, not caring if we “messed it up”…when we made a misstep, we just laughed harder. I went to bed that night with an incredibly full heart and a huge smile on my face.

So, what’s next? I’m currently on a train speeding through the European countryside watching the sun sink lower and lower in the sky, marveling at the beauty all around me. Not sure what my next few days of exploration will bring—and I don’t need to know. There’s so much joy in stepping off a train into a new town and getting lost in its streets. I have a few more weeks of adventuring to my heart’s content and I’m not rushing any part of it. I’m taking things one hour at a time and delighting in the unknown, which is new for me (but fits all the same). I have met so many wonderful people, and even though I’m traveling solo, I have never once felt alone. 

I know how I want to feel, and for now, that’s plenty good enough. My plan is to keep saying yes.

I’m only a little over a week in and my soul feels like it has been lit on fire in the best way. For the first time in a very long time, I feel completely in my life. This is giving me a small taste of so many things I want more of. I don’t know what the future is going to look like, but I’m okay with that. I know how I want to feel, and for now, that’s plenty good enough. My plan is to keep saying yes. To plane rides. To bus rides. To train rides. To trying new things. To making new friends. To living in other countries. To satisfying that curious wanderer in me. To continue expanding the edges of my comfort zone—all in pursuit of the continued returning home to myself. 

If you’re on the fence about jumping into something you know is right for you, but you’re feeling a little nervous about it, this is your sign. Take the leap. You’re not alone—I’m doing it right alongside you. We can jump together.

It’s Just Like Riding a Bike

carissaricci

Remember when those training wheels first came off?

For me, I had a mix of thoughts like:

“Can I really do this?”

“What if I fall? How badly is it going to hurt?”

“I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like when I’m doing it right. How will I know?”

“What if I focus on the wrong things and keep crashing into them?”1

If only I knew then what a phenomenal metaphor this would be for trying anything new. Even when change is exciting and positive, I still find myself in a similar swirl of those thoughts. 

Having been through many situations that have stretched me before, this feeling is becoming more familiar, but each time I navigate a new challenge, I still have to work through the process. I do a 10-point check around my bike, make sure my helmet is securely fastened, and then pedal like hell—hoping to keep myself upright (or at least aim for a soft landing in a nearby bush).2 

There is this space between the familiar and the next step that feels daunting. That moment right before you lift your foot off the ground to place it on the pedal…the amount of trust it takes to raise that foot. The knowledge that you’ll be okay if you fall. That eventually, you’ll get it. That someday, you will be coasting down the path as if it’s second nature, and you won’t feel the same self-doubt when you raise your foot to the pedal anymore. You won’t even think about it. I try to channel that feeling when I face a new opportunity. Sometimes, it works…sometimes, it takes a little bit to get there.

As this restless feeling built, I put it out to the universe with the simple phrase, “I’m ready.” Little did I know quite how seriously the universe would take me. 

For months now, I’ve been playing around with the idea of doing something different in my professional life. The full-time corporate gig has never really fit who I am, and I have been feeling more and more restless as the months passed—wondering when the time would be right and how I would know when to take the leap. As this restless feeling built, I put it out to the universe with the simple phrase, “I’m ready.” Little did I know quite how seriously the universe would take me. 

To say that there’s uncertainty with the future of my current job is an understatement. Reflecting on the situation a few days ago, I heard the phrase, “You said you were ready,” and I had to smile. I did ask for it. And here it was. Asking me to trust myself and put my foot on the pedal.

The thing we can often forget is to lean on our community in these moments—people who have ridden this particular bike before. Those who want to lend a hand and hold onto the back of your seat until you’re finally confident enough for them to let go. I’m so grateful for the humans in my circle. The ones teaching me how to maneuver this new bike. The ones holding onto the seat for support. The ones cheering me on from the sidelines. 

This dream of mine will unlock so much I’ve been craving—freedom, flexibility, and the chance to craft a life that is well-lived and in full alignment with who I am. Is it a little scary? Sure. Does self-doubt sometimes creep in? You bet. Is that going to stop me? Not a chance. 

(Would it have stopped me 3 years ago? Probably. 5 years ago? Most certainly.)

I share all of this to say: we all have our own process and timing. If you’re feeling stuck or frustrated that fear is holding you back from where you want to go, I get it. I’ve been there. And honestly, I still grapple with it. The in-between stage of anything can feel paralyzing. We all have those moments where we’re faced with the decision to put our foot on the pedal or to play it safe and keep both rooted firmly to the ground. In this next phase of life, my intention is to pick my foot up more times than not and to start believing in myself more than I ever have before. Working through that self-doubt is no longer a “nice to have”…it’s a requirement—and it’s a battle I’m willing to keep waging because the prize is a life that feels like I’m no longer trying to shove a round peg in a square hole.

Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am,
I become what I might be.”

I’ve had to say farewell to many different versions of myself over the last few years, and while painful, it has absolutely been worth it. With every shedding of a past self, I feel one step closer to the soul of who I really am. This is the light I always find on the other side of the difficult feelings that come when saying goodbye to a former version. 

As I prepare to step into this next chapter, I know I’ll see those familiar friends I’d rather not: self-doubt, grief, fear…but I am also buoyed up by the knowledge that I’m walking toward some other friends as well: joy, alignment, exhilaration, and contentment. Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” When I feel myself hesitate in that liminal place, I remember those words and let them gently push me forward.

As we let go of those parts of ourselves that are no longer serving our deepest purpose, we can find inspiration in all kinds of places. We can remind ourselves that even though the specifics of the situation might be different from others we’ve previously navigated, we’ve done this before. We can put our feet on those pedals and give it a go. We might wobble a bit. We might even fall a few times. But before we know it, we’ll be flying down a trail somewhere with the breeze on our faces and a strong sense of peace planted firmly in our hearts. And who knows? In doing so, we might also encourage others to grab a bike they’ve been wanting to ride, but haven’t yet plucked up the courage to try.

If anyone else wants to join me, it’s time to hit the trail. Let’s ride.

1 Simon Sinek talks about how important it is to focus on the path rather than the trees. This scene from Frasier also highlights this importance in a slightly more comical way. Bonus? The scene also involves bikes. #fullcircle

2 “Taking on a challenge is a lot like riding a horse, isn’t it? If you’re comfortable while you’re doing it, you’re probably doing it wrong.” – Ted Lasso 

The Spark Calls

carissaricci

Looking back, there have been many times when I’ve felt the spark light up. For a good portion of my younger years, I was oblivious to what that felt like when it called. I was heavily shrouded in the plans I had made for my life. With my head under a dark hood, focused only on what I thought I had to do, I plunged forward. Hell-bent on checking off the boxes I thought I should and numb to what my inner self was trying to tell me.

This picture is the first time I can remember feeling and recognizing it. I was on a work trip in Europe. I left my Amsterdam hotel the first morning I was there and went for a walk—not sure what the day would hold and blinded by the exhaustion of the long flight and sleepless night. The sights, the smells, the people, the tapestry of different languages being spoken around me…it was magic. I was completely hooked. Even if I was also so exhausted that it felt like I was simultaneously drunk and hungover (thanks, jet lag), I was completely enamored.

I can’t remember where I heard this quote, but it sticks with me to this day. “I feel most at home when I’m traveling.” That sentiment resonated into my very bones.

I’ve always considered myself to be somewhat of an odd duck. When most of my friends can’t wait to get home after a trip, I’m already jonesing to buy another ticket to somewhere else and hop a flight. I used to think there was something wrong with me. Broken perhaps. But then I started meeting other people who felt similarly and my world opened up. I wasn’t alone. That’s when my practical side started tugging at my pant leg like an impatient toddler. How was I going to be able to support myself in a way that would still allow me to fully explore this part of myself?

So, here I am. Researching and planning for what I can. That’s the easy part. Trust? That’s the hard part. 

As I pondered different potential options, the familiar narratives of, “How in the world are you going to build a future that will allow you to do that?” and “There’s no way that’s possible,” reared their ugly heads. My psyche was doing everything it could to keep me pinned in to the familiar. The comfortable.

This was breaking new ground for me. Anyone who knows me, knows that if I’m passionate about something, I put my full weight behind it and go for it. All out. 100%. So, here I am. Researching and planning for what I can. That’s the easy part. Trust? That’s the hard part. 

This next phase of my life is about learning to trust: myself, my intuition, and that I might have something unique to offer the world. My fear and doubt want desperately to dispute and cast a shadow over all of that, but this isn’t 2008 Carissa or 2017 Carissa—the woman that had shockingly low self-worth and felt most comfortable in the back of the cave hiding under a blanket and white-knuckling it through life. This is 2023 Carissa. She’s a bit of a badass. And unwilling to settle for things that don’t feel right for her anymore. 

Every time I feel those dark corners moving in, I remind myself to keep taking steps forward toward that spark. It has led me out of the darkness before, and I will continue to follow it again and again—until trusting myself becomes as easy as breathing, and I know I’m honoring what’s most true for me.