Change is synonymous with fear. Because change generally brings with it the unknown factor, and we fear most what we don't know or understand, what we can't predict. No matter how good or bad the change, no matter who you ask (if they are honest with you and themselves), every change brings with it a modicum of fear. Not everyone reacts the same way, and many people hide their reaction or thoughts. Sometimes the reaction is dramatic, such as the women in labour who refuse to push because they fear the next stage (it's actually pretty common, and not just the women who are scared of increased pain, but ones scared of motherhood and all that brings). Sometimes it's all bottled up inside. Sometimes it's obvious in the little things.
Me? I'm filling out my application for Mercy Ships. It's done... but I'm doddling. Not because I don't want to go. I want to go so much I've considered quitting my job now and going this summer (which in all honesty, isn't practical for numberous reasons). But there's a certain amount of fear attached to putting in the application.
I fear rejection. What if they don't accept me? (I could go on, but I'm sure you all know how that train of thought goes)
I fear the end of my time here. This is the first time I've lived alone, truly alone. It's been a big change, and I've grown and learned a lot. I've found my safe place here. I've learned to be comfortable, I have a routine, I know a lot of people, this is my home. In all honesty, it doesn't take much effort to simply stay and not change anything. There are a lot of loose ends to tie up when I leave here, it will be a lot of work. Leaving here will mean selling off almost everything, until I'm left with 6 totes (or less) of belongings, because moving from here is too expensive to do more than that. It will be sad to leave this place I've called home, and these people that are my friends. This place has changed me, I know it. And my job, I actually enjoy it more often than not. I have developed a comfort zone there, I'm known and respected. And the beauty of this place, that astounds me day by day.
I fear moving "home." I haven't lived in MB for years, and am growing used to the joy of going there for short stays, where everyone is so happy to see me that they make time just to get together with me. Living there means being taken for granted, it means having to find time for everyone and everything important to me around the time constraints of a job. Moving means finding a place to live, and setting all the "necessities" up again. It means applying for a job, finding a place to live, deciding what I need and what I can live without until I can afford it. If I do get accepted to Mercy Ships it means finding storage for belongings I'm leaving behind, setting up all the little financial and mundane details that will be important while I'm gone etc.
I fear not getting "enough" family/friend time before/during my time with Mercy Ships. And I fear not being able to judge how much "enough" is (ahead of time), when I'm planning the timing of everything.
I fear miscalculating my finances, and ending up back in debt.
I fear going so far from everyone for another long stretch of time and missing out on the lives of my loved ones, missing seeing their kids grow up, the milestones, the good and the bad, not being a part of the lives of those I care for most.
And, oddly, I fear that I will let my other fears take over, and that I will miss this golden opportunity that I've been waiting for so long. (With Mercy Ships)
So, I fear a lot of changes. And I fear those changes won't take place. It's not that the fear will stop me, it's just slowing me down, making me drag my feet. I'll probably fax my application this weekend, and express post the half of it that's in sealed envelopes on Monday or Tuesday. I don't know what the future holds... It kinda scares me... but that's okay.