Perhaps I should explain. I've been feeling a natural pull toward home recently - theater, cleaning, cooking, yardwork, decorating, photography, playing with kids, doggy parenting, wifey business, and casual visiting with friends and family have pretty much been my life for the past six months. This is strange, because I feel like I have always been a very outwardly focused person - historically, I love meeting new people, visiting new places. I was always the friend who would drop everything for an impromptu trip downstate for a visit. I would think nothing of driving 2+ hours for a day trip, just because.
I guess I have been feeling a definite pull recently, the sort of pull you get when you are moving into a new phase of your life. I felt it upon graduation, I felt it after leaving OEE, and I felt it after the move to this small, quirky community. The problem is, I have NEVER handled change well. I cling to the familiar long after I should have let go. I am definitely an earthen-type person - steady, calm (but full of life), slow to move but stubborn once I've reached where I should be. I think maybe I have let others' opinions of what I should be affect me more than I would like to admit. When I think of what I really want in life, it reflects a great deal more of craft, home, and hearth then it does glamour and nightlife. If one of my friends were telling me this, I would be fully supportive... life is a series of stops on a road, not a highway after all. But why is it that my heart is so resistant to the idea of that life for myself?
I am too focused on others. I have always lived vicariously through my more dramatic acquaintances. It's like I want to have it all - a lovely comfy home, wild and exciting travel, massive parties and small meals with friends. It's this dichotomy that has ALWAYS been frustrating for me - if I had a goal, I could aim for it. "My heart seeks the hearth. My feet seek the road. A soul so divided is a terrible load." --Bruce Coville
The post-holidays winter has always felt like a bit of a chrysalis for me. Our Michigan winters are famous for being long, dark, and bitterly cold. They are the perfect time to pause, reflect, and curl up under a cozy blanket with a husband and some furry friends. When the spring finally arrives, I guess we'll see what emerges.
"Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog" by Caspar David Friedrich
