My heart is restless, my mind refuses to stay on the ground, and my soul is wandering.
As boho hippy as that sounds, it has never been truer for me than it is right now. So many parts of me are searching, roaming to settle in a place that can tie me down. I inherited this restless spirit from my mother, who similarly found herself drawn to a world beyond her home in Mexico City, calling her to the U.S., daring her to create a life for herself, by herself. Sometimes I even think it's genetic - that pull on our hearts, that whisper in our ears, revealing an attractive beyond, tempting us to chase it, challenging us to catch it. This sort of lifestyle can be impatient, unfulfilling, and maddeningly lonely. But it is one that drives me to search, to hope, and, best of all, to dream.
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I was born and raised in a single city, a city I was always angling to escape. I grew up with the same people, went to school with them, and didn't see a world larger than the comfortable familiarity I had grown accustomed to. And yet, I always saw myself trying to get away, as though it was my destiny to move on someday.
"Someday" came when I moved to school nearly 1,500 miles away. It came when I realized that I had soaked up everything that my hometown had to offer and pushed me to take a step beyond its comforting yet confining walls. I had to make a transition; I had to readjust my idea of "home" because I soon found myself calling "home" two separate places, places that are thousands of miles apart.
And yet, I've reached a point where I've learned so much and experienced so much that I realize that neither of these places have the power to tie me down. They are places that I am spending a good portion of my life in, but they won't be places that I can tie myself down to. While I am incredibly loyal to both places and have an intense attachment to them, I still feel like I'm searching and wandering and learning about myself enough to be able to find a final, ultimate home. As of right now, I don't want to go back to my hometown and I know I don't want to stay in my "school-town."
So, where do I go?
The best way for me to characterize these convoluted thoughts is through a quote I found while Pinterest surfing: "I am homesick for a place I am not even sure exists. One where my heart is full and my soul is understood."
Not only does this quote give me hope that someone else in the world can empathize with how I'm feeling but also helps me make my own feelings more tangible and understandable.
While I am called on this journey of wandering, I can still hope to reach a destination. But you can understand how frightening it is to be in a limbo where there is no destination in sight. Imagine this: There is a single, lonely dirt road. Everything is silent and still except for the disruptive interruptions the sounds of your steps make as you walk along this road. You keep moving forward, following the path because the fog that surrounds you makes it so you can only clearly see a few feet ahead. Sometimes you'll get distracted by a shadow that appears on the side of the road, tempting you to stop and investigate. But you know your destination is more important, more valuable than the shadows that distract you, the shadows that seek to derail you and trick you into settling. Sometimes you'll have to make turns and work your way around a fallen tree or a pothole. You're tired and you get lonely, but you still keep moving, you still keep listening to the part of yourself that is drawn by curiosity and wonder and hope for the beautiful end of the road.
As sad and sort of depressing as that may sound, I am actually quite comfortable with this metaphorical image. I comfort myself with the feeling that I am not the only one on this road; I just haven't caught up with the other person who is, or they haven't caught up to me.
