something else, uncensored *

* As mentioned in my earlier post, here is the entry I wrote earlier this week, then decided not to post. There's nothing to be ashamed of here, but I guess I was hesitant to admit that I don't always have it all figured out. I'm publishing this in an attempt to quell my fears of letting go. Here's to no holding back.

Before I jumped into blog-land, I had a "news" section on my old website that was essentially the same thing, minus the bells and whistles of Blogger. I was sorting through the old HTML pages, and found this quote:

"...it's been three months in the big city now, and--granted I have been out of town for quite a lot of it--I must admit that the speed of life here is exhausting and worrisome. I find myself frequently daydreaming about living in a little house in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by space and nature: two things I currently see very little of. " - December 4, 2005, New York City

I find this snippet of memory both heart wrenching and enlightening. Almost two years later, I am as close to that little house as I possibly could be, yet I am no less of a wandering, seeking heart than I was then.

It's curious to me - the idea of the eternal nomad, always moving, always changing directions, always finding a path to explore. Sometimes I wonder if this is what I am destined to do - a never-ending search for truth and adventure. I am hesitant to accept this fate for fear of spending a life zig-zagging in no definite direction, discovering, once it's too late, that a settled and focused life has passed me by. Yet, my path of late would indicate that this is precisely where I'm headed.

Reading that entry has stirred up a feeling of familiarity: restlessness with the idea of settling. I've written about it once before:

"I believe that many people find satisfaction and fulfillment in settling... Now that I'm as close to being settled as ever, with no moving plans in the near future and no destination vacations scheduled, I feel restless." - March 25, 2006, Albany

I'm writing about it in attempt to sort it out in my head. Why do I feel like this? I am perfectly content with the choices I've made that have brought me to where I am, and I am equally content with my life as it is right now. In fact, I couldn't really ask for anything more.

Yet the feeling is there. The yearning for something different, something else. An insatiable travel bug, a curious drive to give more, do more, learn more. And a firm desire to run myself ragged trying to fix the world. It can't be done alone, I know, but I can't help but wonder how long I will meander until I'm burnt out.