What’s the size of tomorrow? Can you get your head around the possibilities that exist each and every day?

Too often, it seems that we get complacent in our comfortable and not-so-comfortable existences. We simply accept the “givens” thrust upon us, taking each day as a specified and tacit truth that cannot be altered. Like a sacred text of diurnal existence, we drift through the currents and eddies that never move us downstream but keep us in constant swirling motion.

That’s when the fight or flight response comes into play. We retreat further into our cave and though we can build our fire a little bigger, there’s no other entrance to the cave. So, at some breaking point specific to each individual, we dash out of the cave in a desperate, headlong, and berserk attempt to ram ourselves into some higher plane of existence.

This then is my berserk Viking charge out of Iceman’s cave. I am dropping the rather comfortable career I had built in the technology world. I am becoming a high school English teacher.

Luckily for me, I have the opportunity to go back to my alma mater and teach along with some of the faculty that I admired, and perhaps feared. It’s a boarding school and I met my wife there, so we both feel a little as if we are going home. We did spend our truly formative years there and it hasn’t quite occurred to me how lucky we are to be able to go back and relive and expand the memories we have.

Today was my last day at my former career. I will miss the people I worked with. I will miss some of the freedom and free time I had in that position. I will miss some of the learning opportunities which were available to me, but I know tomorrow is something the Hubble would be lucky to capture.

The next year of my life hangs in the sky, at once rushing toward me and away from me in 360 degrees of Big Bang-fueled possibility. I can dance and swirl and flip in the nebulous gas cloud of my future. I feel the same way I felt when I made the trip to the school for that first day, knowing that my life would never be the same. I knew that this was one of Mr. Frost’s infamous forks, and while I’m not sure I took the one less traveled by, it will still make all the difference.