More Vulnerability...

So here I am, four months into living in Cambodia, and it's happening again: increased sense of vulnerability. I thought I had it all down: riding motos like a pro, speaking a bit of the language, and smiling at all the people. But now I've bought a bike. As I write this, it seems silly. Yes, I am anxious about riding a bicycle in Phnom Penh.

Now I know my CWF volunteer friends will laugh because they have been doing this for months now, and I've been riding a moto to and from work. Most would probably argue that riding a moto is far more dangerous than riding a bike, which I probably agree with. But that doesn't change the fact that riding a bike is something new for me, new terrain of my ever-present anxiety to master.

I've hopped on my bike a few times and have been successful, but much like what I mention in a previous post entitled "Vulnerability," I find excuses not to ride it. Not to go out. Writing this blog, for example, is another way to avoid hopping on the bike and exploring PP in a different way.

But what I'll do--eventually--is look back and laugh at this post. I'll recognize it's my same pattern of fearing the unknown and pat myself on the back for overcoming it.

What I would eventually like to get to is not having to look back and laugh. Instead, I want to be laughing with every new thing that comes my way, unaware of the "what ifs" that might be. If you know what I'm talking about, then you also know how hard it is to do this. For now, I'll keep pushing--or pedaling--forward, hoping one day every new thing in my life is met with a sense of exploration and wonder.