Don't Just Go

Life is filled with moments. Some may be just the blink of an eye, seemingly insignificant, and others can change you forever. However, I have found that the most inspiring, earth-shattering moments are those that leave you breathless and wanting more.

The days have begun to run together like thin water colors, but the moments remain bold—whether sailing from the island of Crete to the sheer cliff faces of Santorini or leaping from boulders into the icy sea, savoring the applause from locals and travelers alike. Two days later, and I am amazed at all the things I have done here in Santorini. I have slept in the sun on black sand beaches, explored the chasms and mysteries of an ancient volcano, breast stroked in the hot springs, and climbed the winding roads of Kamari to the ancient city of Thira in pursuit of geocache treasure. However, for me, one moment has defined my experience in Greece.

After a day of non-stop going, of adventure, of heat, a group of us sat on a crumbling brick wall, high above the caldera and watched as the orange sun sank into the haze of the waves. To my right, white washed buildings jutted out of the rock, domed in brilliant blue and bathed in crisp green lemon trees and purple bogenvelia, and over my left shoulder islands floated in the mist. Hundreds of feet below my dangling nikes, the harbor unfurled and little orange and blue sailboats cruised the coast, yet the most awe inspiring view was directly ahead. The sea undulated blue upon blue, rolling and falling like the breathing belly of the earth and the sun hung by an invisible string, lowered to sleep by God’s hand. All around me there was commotion—tourists taking photographs, chattering children, and couples holding hands, laughing, yet within me there was silence and resolution. Time stood still. As the crowds began to fade, after the sun had dipped below the curve of the world, a few of us remained to watch the lights come on in the city and the stars burn in the dark sky. Listening to Jeff Buckley’s Hallelujah and enjoying the moment with a few close friends, I felt full, not just content or satisfied, but filled with joy and purpose.

After experiencing a moment like this, I can exhale—truly release and reflect. My advice for all of you would be to get up, right now, and exhale. Don’t watch, as your life slips away beneath the curve of the world, don’t wait for opportunity and direction—stand up, go out, and find it. As my amazing friends here have taught me, have a sense of humor, especially concerning your shortcomings. Give yourself enough time to enjoy life. Don’t just learn, understand; don’t settle for happy, feel joy; and don’t solely exist in space, live in love and faith.

Don’t just go. Lead.

-Annie Herndon