I really like blood. Not in a psycho “I’m going to drink your blood” kind of way, but I really celebrate my scars and battle wounds because it represents trying something new… we’ll get back to this.
When’s the last time you just had to send it off of a cliff but you were tied down by the ol’ “Golden Handcuffs”? You know… the deal where you’ve got a situation / job that’s so good & comfy where there’s no logical reason to leave other than the fact that it’s just time to go.
FUN & USELESS FACT: 2/3 of God’s name is “GO” and sometimes you just need to remember that.
I’ll never forget the time when I was really struggling to make a decision about the next step in my life… and you know when you just need the wise words of your friends? Same.
I had been working with youth for a church in Connecticut for almost 7 years and they treated us like gold but it was time to leave… it was time for something else but it was soooooo bloody comfy (yep, the ol’ “Golden Handcuffs” thing).
My bro, the one we affectionately nicknamed “BRICK”, grabs me by the shoulders, looks me straight in the windows of my soul and says, “TAKE A F**KING RISK”!
He was right.
I needed to hear that. I needed the encouragement to just send it.
I think that’s why I celebrate blood. In the last week I’ve had the privilege of seeing blood drip from different parts of my body including my hand, knee, elbow, upper leg, and abdomen. It makes me feel alive. It reminds me that I took a risk. Blood isn’t the goal, but sometimes it’s an inevitable part of the journey. Yesterday, I tried mountain biking down a steep cliff-like rock face that I had never tried before and went ass-over-tea-kettle over my bars and scraped right down the friggin’ face of this thing like a cheese grater. Pics or it didn’t happen, right? You’re welcome.
So, what are your golden handcuffs… and what would taking a risk look like to you?