A Justification for Action and Inaction

     I'm moving out soon. I've been planning my move for the better part of four years now, but I'm serious about this; I'm moving.
     I think I'll go west, I like the idea of it. Seems adventurous ya know? Like I'm doing that chase the sunset song and dance. Maybe Seattle, maybe Portland, maybe even California. I haven't decided on a destination yet, but that's not the point. The point is that I have made the decision to move.
     When I tell people about my plan (or lack there of), I am usually greeted with a puzzled look. They ask things like; "You're just going to go? West?" and " What about money? You need money, ya know?"...And to be fair, these are all valid points that should be taken into consideration when deciding whether or not to pack up and start anew halfway across the country. Factors such as money and housing arrangements are no joke, and should be taken seriously...But not too seriously, I'd argue.
     See, I have been thinking about the logistical aspect of such a decision for a while now. I've spent quite a bit of time stressing over the things that I should be stressing over. Things like not having enough money to afford to eat stale Top Roman, and not being able to find a suitable job, and my car breaking down halfway through Utah and me having to start my new life in the disappointment that is, Utah- These are all sincere thoughts that have entered my mind within the past few months. These sort of scenarios are scary, but they're practical. Fear of making the wrong choice (or not making the absolute best one), is a great way to ensure that you make a wise decision. But when the fear of making a bad decision becomes so great that you become afraid of making any sort of decision, you've let fear make your choice for you.
     ...And that's the kind of fruitless mental state that I've been in for the past couple years now. I've wanted nothing more than to move away for so long now, but my fear of messing up; of making a decision that hindsight might regret, has left me paralyzed. I've been so afraid of making a poor choice, that I forgot to even choose. I let indecision be my decision, and inaction be my action. But not anymore.
   
The way I see it; I've been working to afford stability since I was fifteen years old. And since then, I've been broke. I've never had money, but for the most part, I've been happy; and I think I'm OK with that lifestyle. And if there's any evidence that my decision to pack up and head west is a good decision, it's that.

Headed west.