Left or Right?

On my way to school each morning I drive down the same motorway stretch. There is a point in the road where the centre lane splits and one half goes left and one half goes right. This is the lane that I drive in and it turns out to be a pretty good metaphor for what is going on in my life at the moment.

I am driving down that centre lane, and my lane is splitting into two, and I have to choose which way I will go. Coincidently, to go right would take you to the airport, and to go left would take you further down the southern motorway. Unlike those in the far left lane and the far right lane, who know exactly where they are going and are on the way to getting there, I am driving in the centre lane that is splitting beneath my feet. I have a choice to make, and I have to make it soon. Will I drive left or right?

All of this is to basically say that I am probably moving to London next year. I'm 85% sure that this is the choice I will make, but there is still that 15% that is tugging at my skirt trying to get attention. It is a big decision to make. To leave the only suburb, city, country I have ever called home and move to the other side of the world. To be over 24 hours and two thousand dollars away from my family for who knows how long. To face the reality that friends may have their children and loved ones could die while I'm not there.

But that 85% has a loud voice, and it has my attention. To move to a new, exciting place. A place I have learned about all my love and have been desperate to see for just about as long. To be a stone's throw away from countless other countries and cities I have dreamed of for many years. To have the chance to teach next year, guaranteed (which is more than what I can ask for in New Zealand). To find my own feet, my own voice, more certainly than I could in the safety of my home.

Will I drive left or right?