Wild Heart

I'm surrounded by change. Transition is necessary and inevitable in life, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt like hell sometimes. Even valid reasons for change do not negate the fact that with change comes mourning. We mourn what was, what could have been, what we knew needed to end, or what we hoped to just begin. We mourn what's comfortable, and safe, and familiar. When I think of the word familiar, I think of home. I think of a place, or a person - someone or something that knows you so well that words are not necessary because your eyes speak volumes in a language that only they can truly understand.

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Restlessness

Maybe restlessness is just who I am and who I’ll always be. I guess when it comes down to it, I just want to be somewhere that feels right – somewhere that feels like it could be home. When I think about that place, I imagine warmth. I imagine fireplaces and blankets on a bitter cold night.

I love my independence, but I've lived and traveled enough to know that it’s love – it’s people, connection, friendship – that ties you to a place. We all need someone. This is the human condition. As much as I acknowledge that part of my restlessness stems from wandering through life alone, it’s not something I can really control, or even want to. I am a searcher, yes; but I’m not only searching for someone, I'm searching for meaning, and beauty, and understanding.

So you see, choosing a place to belong isn’t so simple for someone like me. I don’t want to be put in a box. I need to be able to float around out there in the great unknown, like the restless soul that I am. I just need someone to throw me a line every now and then. To bring me back down to earth when my wandering heart needs rest. To offer me a net I can fall into when I need to come home. Wherever home is.