There is a moment in which we will either keep going or turn around. That moment is the one that precedes the rest, or the best of your life.
... It’s the moment, in which we allow ourselves to realize we don’t know anything other than what we once knew, or maybe we know our next step (literally, one foot forward), but we’re not dared (or we’re too scared) to move. It’s not to say all knowledge and awareness falls by the wayside, but at the crossroads (or the “stop” sign, or the “slow lane,” or the “construction zone”) of life we hover between everything we already knew and that which we don’t.
It’s no wonder that the imagery of taking a leap of faith involves a person staring straight ahead into a foggy road, a foggy forest, or some other vast space with a potentially deep fall.
It’s a bittersweet moment, because you’re leaving that which you know (should you choose to) and trusting that which you don’t will nourish your soul (or love you, or will encourage you, or will help you grow, or fill in the blank) just like that which you already knew (or maybe, know you need). Who knew that making one decision would be so intricately woven with our belief system, our soul, and our spirit?
It’s bittersweet because that moment is perhaps the biggest turning point of our lives each moment it happens. If we weren’t feeling fear, I would be concerned. It’s like lemon and honey: without the balance of the other, it would be too bitter, too sweet. Perhaps that’s why our growing up is ultimately refreshing. It’s not really bittersweet, because it’s faith and love acting as one.
Soon, that foggy landscape, or vast deep space, in the moment before we step forward becomes the stillness of a lake. We can see our next step, and now we just have to get there. The fear is relieved, and we stand in knowing awe of the faith and love about to carry us across the water. The rush of emotion will be familiar. After all, you’ve been in that doorway of great trust before.
Imagine yourself as a child on your big girl (or big boy) bicycle and the training wheels have just come off. How bittersweet it is for your father (or mother) to subtly let go and watch you ride off. And you, as a child, refreshed with the wind against your face. He’s set you off with faith and love, but he never really lets go.
So, when you’re standing at the point of decision as an adult, lean on that faith and love. It may be bittersweet, in that instant, but the refreshing wind as you lean into it is worth that moment.
It’s like lemon and honey.