I haven’t written a thing in months. I’ve been so busy preparing to hold still, so preoccupied trying to wrap my head around the thought of that, I have had little time and less focus.
I’ve …decided to accept a request that I stay here, in Colorado, for the foreseeable future. When I think about it that way, I feel panic chewing at my edges.
I’ve… decided to choose one of the many life paths I have long dreamt of following. Less panic, and some of my functionality returns.
I’ve always had so many ideas for my life, so many dreams. *)Live in France, work in a vineyard and be a writer. *)Live in New Orleans, have friends, and be a writer. *)Live in the Caribbean, be the crazy white girl with the awesome beach bar, and be a writer. *)Live in the Caribbean and be a pirate. *)Travel, constantly, uh, and be a writer. *)Be a wife and a mother and have a home and find a job I didn’t hate so I could be comfortable and loved and still travel when I could and hopefully write a little in my spare time.
I have always been aware of the impossibility of following all of these paths (I didn’t want any of them to be temporary); it simply cannot be done by one person in one life. I don’t like impossibilities though and have been straining against this particular one, hoping I could find a way to live several lives, also knowing I was ultimately wasting time trying to decide which path to take. If I didn’t choose something, soon, my choices would be taken from me one by one, by age most likely, or any other scary limitation that might occur. I began to fear that I was falling into that worst trap of all, by not choosing one, I would lose all.
When this latest path reappeared from the darkness of lost hopes, I was a child with the sudden shock of a butterfly landing on her nose. I was stopped in my tracks, forgetting to breathe, staring half cross eyed at the gentle, but exotic beauty of the path most traveled. I had honestly almost dropped this option from the list as it seemed least likely and had lost its sparkle in the last few years of hurt and human ugliness.
Stay still? Make a home? With a house and a job and a family and all its beautiful trappings? Back where I started? I said YES and it all became a whirlwind of activity and preparation, to stop. I was scared, often. More scared than any of the times I have decided to pack up and disappear to somewhere new and strange. I still am some days, like today.
I realize, however, that this IS one of the paths I longed to take. It has beauty and magic and hope and, now, possibility. It also has love and safety and stability. Most surprising and wonderful of all, it unexpectedly is going to let me travel and adventure, and be a writer. That I never guessed could be a part of this path.
So I am easing my way into this strange stillness, and I find myself happy. I am myself, completely, and accepted.. no, loved, as such, and my fears are fading. I see that some adventures are more softly shaped, and at the same time, I do not have to let go of the type I am used to. I get to live a dream, one of laughter and creativity, but filled with love and peace instead of loneliness and hardship. This is going to be interesting.
The best part…. he loves adventure too. Look out world, I have a partner in crime.