Faith or foolishness

I'm in the process of making some big decisions. When I say big decisions, I mean "complete turnaround, no turning back, are you in or out, letting go of all life as you know it, stepping into the unknown" decisions. Let me tell you a little about my thoughts over the last few months. Well, I guess that actually, it's been years in the making.

Ever since my second year of university, I have known that I don't really want to spend the rest of my life being a physiotherapist. I don't hate it, but I have always had an inkling that it's not what I'm made for. It's not what makes me come alive. My problem, the reason that I have stayed in it is that I haven't really known what I actually want to do. I have known what my passions are, I have had glimpses of the things that make me come alive, but they have never seemed to come coherently into a career or a purpose. I mean, what do you do when you love writing but don't want to be a journalist, when you're fascinated by people but don't want to spend all day every day with them, when you're interested in the theory of health but aren't necessarily gifted at putting it into practise, when you love learning about other cultures especially first hand?

I can't tell you how I came across Medical Anthropology. I can't actually remember. All I know is that, from the instant I discovered it, it's got me hooked. I'll save you a google search and tell you what it is...basically, it's the study of how health and healthcare are affected by culture. And it combines the things that I'm interested in. I started researching it further: places I could study it, what that would involve, what I would need to do. And I started the ball rolling... So, the last couple of months have involved filling out application forms, finding my degree certificate, asking old lecturers to write references, making enquiries about funding and a little bit of freaking out! This morning, I got an acceptance from Edinburgh University. It's exciting! It's terrifying! It would involving moving (back) to the other side of the world after six years in New Zealand. It would involve leaving an amazingly supportive and enjoyable work environment. It would involve saying goodbye to friends who have helped hold me together. It would involve (temporarily or permanently) giving up working as a physio. And it would involve A LOT of money (we're talking about just about enough to put a deposit on a house, just for the uni fees).

I'm standing on the edge of a cliff. I feel ready to take a step off it, but what I'm wondering is, is that faith or foolishness?

I am trying to work out if this huge step is brave or stupid.

This is a Master's course that lasts for a year. After that, I'm not sure. At the moment, I feel like I won't actually know the next step until I take the first one. From the outside, I could see why many would think I am foolish...giving up a life I have built in a place where I am comfortable, with a stable job to pay a large amount of money to move to another city to study something that doesn't have a defined career at the end of it. Am I crazy? But on the flip side, just filling out the application forms has made me excited about it.

When I look over the edge of the cliff, I see the darkness of uncertainty,

but I also see the light of possibility that is shining through it.

Do you think you should take a risk just because it feels right? Is that faith? Or is it foolishness? (This is not a rhetorical question...any thoughts are appreciated.)