There’s a special kind of frustration that comes with reading a past journal entry and seeing the same stories playing out on the page that are still occurring today. Albert Einstein said, “Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Well, based on my life thus far, you’re clearly going to have to call me crazy.

While I think I’ve made some positive changes over the past few months, I’ve still seen these repetitions reflected in some of my Stratejoy posts. I so often get tripped up on the same issues– mainly my confidence and an obsessive desire to figure out the big picture before making a decision related to my career (I mention these just in case you haven’t been following my posts. If you have, these issues are probably embarrassingly clear).

At some point, though, the issues get old. I know it’s not working to keep on repeating the same stories—and I’m probably driving all my loved ones crazy by continuing to cycle through them. They want better for me. I just need to believe that I deserve better too.

The reality is that I’m the one holding onto these stories about myself. It’s not some universal force that’s putting me in situations to test my will (like numerous bad jobs); rather, it’s my own fears and choices—or lack thereof—relating to careers, friendships, etc. that keeps me from making any long-lasting changes (like my habit of continuing to apply for and take the same kind of jobs).

I’ve already figured out my values, I know my passions and interests, I’ve written out my personal manifesto for the way I want to live, I’m learning to practice gratitude and self-love.

Now I’m seeking the action piece—and I can’t think or plan myself into action.

So, I’m going to do something that’s been on my mind for, oh, two years or so. When I get home from our Ireland trip, I’m going to enroll in the Institute for Integrative Nutrition, a program that teaches holistic health, wellness and nutrition and prepares students to become health coaches. It’s been on my mind ever since I went through my own wellness journey over the past few years and subsequently realized that I want to help other women live happier, healthier and more creative lives.

All of my hesitations for the past two years have been that I didn’t know exactly what The Big Picture would be if I did this program and tried to change my career in this way. I couldn’t piece together how it would make sense with my background in marketing, advertising and journalism. So it was easier to do nothing.

But it’s NOT easier to do nothing. It’s actually kind of scary and ultimately unfulfilling. And kind of sad.

While I’m still not sure of The Big Picture with any amount of clarity, or even how this “makes sense” with what I’ve done professionally in the past, the IIN program represents a sense of possibility and faith instead of an unknown future. First of all, it would likely help me continue my wellness journey by allowing me to explore natural options for managing my polycystic ovarian syndrome and hopefully increase my chances of having a baby someday. It might give me a means of helping other women treat their PCOS. It might let me work specifically with creatives help them learn how health and balance is key to being productive and happy in their creative careers. It’d likely involve a health-centered food blog with gorgeous food photography. Maybe I’ll teach a whole foods cooking class at a local recreational cooking school, or get involved with a non-profit group or with food policy. Or I could decide to go through yoga teacher training. Heck, I could even buy a food truck and operate a mobile fresh juice and smoothie bar! And there’s probably another dozen options that have yet to occur to me.

Choosing to do this program feels like I’m choosing a fresh path, regardless of what the outcome might be. It feels like a path rooted in my values—wellness, balance, intention, authenticity, learning, connection—and a compilation of my interests and passions. It can only lead somewhere good, right?

It’s hard not to be scared, especially when it seems so different than what I’ve done in the past. As someone who sometimes cares too much about what others think, I worry about what friends and family will think, especially because I haven’t always shared this side of myself with all of them.

But real growth comes from feeling the fear, doing it anyways, and transforming. There’s a sunrise just over my horizon, and I’m choosing to run towards it.

{Image via jacsonquerubin}