it's happening again.
extreme wanderlust.
an insatiable craving for nature, the woods, rivers, mountains.
simplicity, clean air - dirt, not dust.
a place to explore and explore, never coming to the end.
i love the bustling inner city life, but i'm finding it difficult to love LA. San Francisco, Portland,
Denver - these are cities which are easy to love when you are the child of the woods. i'm tired of driving so much, of feeling trapped 6 suburbs deep between myself and wildnerness country. i'm tired of seeing grand wealth put into the most insignificant things. i'm really sick of hot, dry dust. i am not the type to settle down. my limit is 3-5 years in one place, then i'm ready to pack up and leave, to go somewhere, anywhere, so long as it's different.
but i am in LA for a while longer. it's not just up to me anymore. i married a man who came with a band, daily practices, monthly concerts. i'm thrilled he gets to be a real musician, not just a musician by hobby. so i face my wanderlust with gentleness, like one would with a wild animal that must be caged for its own good. i try to have patience, to focus on that which i do love here - my tiny home, my friends, my daily hikes with maisy - and i let myself dream of the future possibilities, the time when i will get to put my finger on a map and head out. i guess this is growing up.
What we sacrifice for our men. It's a good thing they're so darn handsome.
ReplyDeleteI have extreme wanderlust. And you know what? When I had to visit another part of the world, I just left my man and sent him some postcards. Always coming back, of course. But I feel you on the nomadic life. I loved it before and I crave it now.