Here Goes Everything/Nothing

Have you ever heard the expression "here goes nothing," before?  I assume you have - it's a pretty popular phrase, and it's often used when we are actually most anxious, nervous, or scared to do something.  It's a phrase used before "popping the question," or heading into an important interview or talking to someone who makes you nervous.  Why is it that the English language so strange?  Why do we construct phrases whose literal meaning is totally different than what we, well, mean?

And what the heck inspired this rant?  Once I've finished work (I'm typing this during my lunch break, on someone else's phone) I have a meeting for Festival (more on that some other time) and then I'm catching a train that will take me to my bus which will bring me to NYC.  There I will be auditioning for Columbia University's MFA in Theatre, with a concentration in Acting.  And I have a healthy understanding of the fact that thousands of people apply and hundreds of people audition and then less than two dozen are accepted in to this program.  I have plans to move to the city, to get work, to support myself and further my hopes, dreams, goals and plans, as though Columbia is a place I've never heard of.

And yet. . . this is still the most important audition of my life so far.  And while I try to tell myself "here goes nothing," as I pack and figure and sort and plan, I know deep down in my heart that what I really mean is "here goes everything."

Here is my passion, my talent, my art, on display for you to be judged, weighed, measured.  Let me stand before you and sing, dance, tell you a story so you can decide, quite literally, if I am good enough.  Here is my dream: it's in your hand and a single check mark can make it a reality or a faint wiggling regret to sigh in the back of my mind.  Here goes hundreds of dollars - in applications fees, voice lessons, dresses, headshots - here goes two days of my life aboard public transportation, sleeping away from my bed, standing in line wondering.

Here. You get to make a decision that could impact almost every detail of my relationships: how often and when and where I see my Boyfriend, my mother, my siblings, my friends.

Here.

Here.

Here is everything.

And there is something liberating about that: about looking at what I'm doing and instead of thinking here goes nothing, allowing myself to feel its weight, and solidness, to let the repercussions of the next few days vibrate and ripple through my being.  Somehow, it is as though by giving you everything I truly have given everything - the heaviness is gone.  And I can plunge ahead, free and unimpeded. . . carrying with me nothing but myself because, a vessel ready to receive what lies ahead.

So. . . here goes nothing.  See you on the other side.