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.

Virtual Reality

We send messages instead of letters. 
We comment instead of call. 
We have unlimited minutes and smartphone apps that allow us to connect for free from anywhere in the world, and yet we struggle to make dinner plans, to hear each other’s voices.
We type hundreds of one-liner birthday wishes instead of writing a heartfelt card. 
We document our moments through perfectly constructed photos. 
We craft our words carefully so our posts are clever, funny, literary snapshots of our inner monologue. 

Then we anxiously wonder – as each day, month, year passes – why we haven’t accomplished that goal, or bought that house, or gone on that vacation, or had that amazing thing happen to us. 
We barrage ourselves with self-doubt and self-loathing at our incompetence to succeed in these seemingly normal occurrences and occasions.
We resolve to the idea that we must not be good enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, funny enough, dedicated enough, rich enough, lucky enough.
We wrack our brains looking for the most logical reason to explain why our lives aren’t as interesting as everyone else’s.

But this world is convenient, we say.
We are busy. Rundown. Over-scheduled.
We may sacrifice authentic connection, but at least we’re still connected.
But are we really?
When we focus so much on the blanket promotion of our wins and our successes, on the curated snippets of our story but only the snippets worthy of our virtual walls, we've missed something.
We are missing something.
 
And I don’t want to miss it.
I don’t want to miss these moments.
I don’t want to miss you when you cross my path.
I want to share my story and share in yours.
I want to see your words.
I want to see them dance across my mind when I hear them in your voice or read them on the pages of an old fashioned, handwritten letter – the kind the mailman delivers to the mailbox at the end of the driveway.
I want to see your face, not in a recent profile photo, but at the opposite end of the table behind a cup of coffee or a glass of wine.

We can share with each other. We can be authentic.
But we have to truly reach out beyond our screens.
We have to connect – not in virtual reality, but in the real world.

Impact

We have no idea the impact we can make on someone’s life just by offering a simple word of encouragement, by showing up, by supporting them in some small way.

By acknowledging their gift. By embracing it. By giving them permission to step towards their dream again. To crack open the door they had closed and barred, the door they had planted trees in front of and allowed bushes and weeds and vines to overtake and overshadow. By giving them permission to walk through into blinding light, the light that is their gift to the world. By saying, “I believe in you. I believe in your gifts. You can do this.”

Sometimes all someone needs is the smallest reason to keep hoping, to keep moving forward in pursuit of the beautiful, full life they were always meant to have.
 

Even Though

Even though it’s hard to accept failure when you’ve poured your heart and soul into something – 

Even though it’s hard to push yourself to keep trying and fighting and living when all you want to do is scream and cry and wrap yourself in a blanket and sleep for days – 

Even though life is challenging, and some losses loom over you like giant mountains – 

Remember the beautiful moments. 
Remember the small successes.  

Sometimes beauty is so hard to see because we’re only looking for these grand experiences and revelations. At the end of it all, I know that I would much rather have a life-changing journey, even if it’s filled with disappointments and loss and goodbyes, than wake up one day and realize that I’ve never done anything, felt anything, lived through anything.

Maybe you fall.
Maybe you make a mistake. 

Or, maybe you succeed. 
Maybe you become something great.