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the everyman memoirs

The official blog of author Tali Nay.
JUN
21

On The Road Again

It's been over twenty years since, as a high schooler, I set foot on the campus where I would eventually attend college. I was attending a summer honors program that accepted 25 high-schoolers across the country and gave them the chance to get some early college credits. I still think of this small farming town fondly, and last week I got the chance to visit. The college has since expanded into a full-fledged university, and the way this little town has grown and flourished was exciting to see. Of course, the sentimental side of me always pines for the way things used to be, and sometimes change in any form, even positive change, can seem, well, kind of sad. The dorm I lived in, for example, has been torn down and replaced by a parking lot. The pie shop where I celebrated my 19th birthday has closed. The green hillsides are covered with new apartments and condos, distracting from the purity of the view.

This visit was part of a 5-state road trip that seemed appealing after so many months of staying at home. With my co-pilot handling navigation, music, and snacks, we set out to see some different slices of earth as a way to remind ourselves of just how much there is outside of our own small corner of the world. The ultimate prize was a brief 24 hours spent in the company of some of my family, but the majority of the trip was driving, and in some ways, it's simply amazing how varied the terrain gets within just a few hours of the places where we live. Mountains, desert, and ridiculously hot weather. Each night spent somewhere new, each morning a different granola bar or piece of fruit handed over from a front-desk hotel worker. There's something peaceful about being on the road, being temporarily attached to nowhere, and despite the exhaustion of several days of driving, the less than stellar hotel beds and pillows, and the digestive distress that comes from eating foods you wouldn't normally be eating (just me?), arriving back home has felt, for lack of a better term, somewhat boring. I suppose that's the power of the open road, of not knowing what exactly you'll find just beyond that next mountain.

AUG
07

Do What Scares You

If you want to know a secret, the reason I love roller coasters is because I actually hate them. Or, to put it another way, they terrify me. And yet. There's something about those final post-launch, I'm-going-to-crap-my-pants seconds that makes the whole ordeal better than if they didn't rattle me at all. For me, it's all about getting out of the comfort zone, reminding myself I'm alive, and also reveling in the satisfaction that comes from having done survived something that totally freaks me out.

This week I had my first-ever experience with a zip line. I'll confess to you now that on the flip side of the adventure--once I arrived safely at the bottom of the mountain--I realized there's a lot less to be anxious about than I had thought. It's a very easy task that produces not so much as a single stomach lurch in-flight. But I certainly didn't know that when at the top. And so I'll also confess that as I sat strapped on the line, suspended in air, waiting to be released and sail out into nothingness, I was convinced it was possibly the worst idea I'd ever had. I was picturing free-falling. I was picturing intestinal discomfort...or disaster. But there I was. Doing it. ("Why is no one screaming?" the woman next to me in line whispered after several from our group had sailed down the line without so much as a peep. "Oh, I'll be screaming for sure," I replied.)

An aunt of mine made a brave decision several months ago, one that has changed her life significantly. And when she made the decision, she called me. She said I had a lot to do with her decision, in that she's watched me make decisions all my life that involved going with the more unknown, scary option. And she said she couldn't justify letting fear keep her from making a certain choice. Think about that for a minute. Because if we take this principle (not letting fear be what keeps us from doing something) and look at it another way, what this actually means is that we should actually be making decisions because they scare us. We should be choosing what scares us. Maybe not all the time, but I'm convinced that choosing the scary option now and then takes us outside our wheelhouse long enough to be reminded that shaking things up is necessary for growth. This doesn't mean we won't feel like crapping our pants when staring down the mountainside, but it means when we've safely reached the bottom of the hill, we'll have opened ourselves up to new experiences and opportunities as well as increased the confidence we have in our own capabilities. Plus, you can't beat the view while coming down.