It hit me sometime in the last day I had gotten some things confused. There were two things going on: 1. A strange urge to wander freely on this earth. A nomad. A slave to nothing but the sea and wind. 2. An urge to get away from the things here. And in that an avoidance of a God who saved me and a family that loves me and people I convinced myself I hated.
I had thrown the two together in a clash of thoughts that were bound to drown me. I could hardly finish a sentence without contradicting myself. "I love people, I want to see the way they live and meet them and hear their stories."
"I hate people. I want to be isolated on my boat."
"I want to see the world!"
"I want to quit life. Fuck it all. Disappear."
I do in some sense want to "run" but lot from anything! To something.
I do want to disappear, not to not be found, but to find myself!
I was not made for American living as most live it. But I love people here. I trust god put me here for this time. I trust he's leading me to an adventure. Until then though, I should be living a adventure and loving the people I'm with here!
They are fascinating.
And enchanting.
And interesting.
They think and feel.
I have regained balance. I am at peace with my restless soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment