On chances, vertigo, failure and the strange mathematics of becoming alive.
There is a moment before every important decision when the world becomes very silent.
It is the moment at the edge.
You can still go back.
The door is still open behind you. The familiar life is still intact. Nothing has happened yet.
And that is what makes it terrifying.
We like to imagine that courage arrives before the leap, neatly dressed and fully prepared.
It doesn't.
Most of the time, courage looks suspiciously like uncertainty.
You simply stand there, knowing that if you move forward, something will change.
And if you don't, something will change anyway.
This is the part nobody tells you about opportunity: it rarely arrives looking safe.
Sometimes it looks like a plane ticket bought before you know...
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