I went out for dinner tonight. Sat and ate and read and thought. Can I really read and think at the same time? No. Maybe I just stared at the words and pretended I was reading while I thought.
I was thinking about where I've just come from and where I am now. Materialistically speaking. I've come from a 3 bedroom house w/huge front and back yard and a pool and a big garage and skylights and nice kitchen and lovely tile floors. Now I'm in an apartment with carpet and no yard and a community pool and an open parking space.
I was reflecting on how much easier the apartment is to care for than the house. I mean sure not having a yard or pool to care for is obvious but even the little things like the carpet. Carpet holds the dog hair in place so it doesn't hide under the couch or form bunnies hiding in a corner. I can vacuum the entire apartment in 9 minutes and call it a good job. I love the simplicity of it.
But then I thought farther back to when I first moved into the house. I was thrilled with the tile. It was so easy to care for. I didn't have to worry about spilled drinks or ashtrays or dog pee or water or cat vomit. It was so easy and worry free. I loved it.
Then I thought "the thought." You know, the thought that wraps all your musings up into one sentence. The thought that makes the obvious solid in front of you. And the thought was "I love change." In another 3 years I'll want tile again.
I lived in that house in AZ for 4, maybe 4 1/2 years. I think that's the longest time I've ever lived in one place. My parents were always moving us around. House to house, city to city, then state to state. Ted and I moved around a lot too. 3 states in the 10 years that we knew each other. Is my wander lust a result of conditioning? Is it in my genes? Maybe the native American in me wants to migrate or something.
And then I thought about wandering. I sometimes feel like I'm drifting, sometimes I'm trying to swim upstream against class 5 rapids. Drifting and wandering are usually bad words when applied to someones life. It usually means aimless. No purpose. No focus. But I like wandering. I like exploring new places and experiencing new things. I like taking in the culture or feel of a new city.
While driving around this weekend I actually found myself saying to myself "I have no idea where I am, but I'm not lost." This was not out of stubborness, but the truth. I love getting in the car and driving. Where am I going? Well, I'll let you know when I get there. "All those who wander are not lost."
As a wanderer you realize how attached we are to "stuff". How easy it is to live, survive, thrive, in any town. How important it is to have a safe haven, a home, a base of operations. But that home is anything, anywhere you create it. I can feel what this place has to offer, soak it up, and move on. It's quite comforting to know that no matter where I am I can do well on my own. And "home is where you hang your hat."
I was thinking about where I've just come from and where I am now. Materialistically speaking. I've come from a 3 bedroom house w/huge front and back yard and a pool and a big garage and skylights and nice kitchen and lovely tile floors. Now I'm in an apartment with carpet and no yard and a community pool and an open parking space.
I was reflecting on how much easier the apartment is to care for than the house. I mean sure not having a yard or pool to care for is obvious but even the little things like the carpet. Carpet holds the dog hair in place so it doesn't hide under the couch or form bunnies hiding in a corner. I can vacuum the entire apartment in 9 minutes and call it a good job. I love the simplicity of it.
But then I thought farther back to when I first moved into the house. I was thrilled with the tile. It was so easy to care for. I didn't have to worry about spilled drinks or ashtrays or dog pee or water or cat vomit. It was so easy and worry free. I loved it.
Then I thought "the thought." You know, the thought that wraps all your musings up into one sentence. The thought that makes the obvious solid in front of you. And the thought was "I love change." In another 3 years I'll want tile again.
I lived in that house in AZ for 4, maybe 4 1/2 years. I think that's the longest time I've ever lived in one place. My parents were always moving us around. House to house, city to city, then state to state. Ted and I moved around a lot too. 3 states in the 10 years that we knew each other. Is my wander lust a result of conditioning? Is it in my genes? Maybe the native American in me wants to migrate or something.
And then I thought about wandering. I sometimes feel like I'm drifting, sometimes I'm trying to swim upstream against class 5 rapids. Drifting and wandering are usually bad words when applied to someones life. It usually means aimless. No purpose. No focus. But I like wandering. I like exploring new places and experiencing new things. I like taking in the culture or feel of a new city.
While driving around this weekend I actually found myself saying to myself "I have no idea where I am, but I'm not lost." This was not out of stubborness, but the truth. I love getting in the car and driving. Where am I going? Well, I'll let you know when I get there. "All those who wander are not lost."
As a wanderer you realize how attached we are to "stuff". How easy it is to live, survive, thrive, in any town. How important it is to have a safe haven, a home, a base of operations. But that home is anything, anywhere you create it. I can feel what this place has to offer, soak it up, and move on. It's quite comforting to know that no matter where I am I can do well on my own. And "home is where you hang your hat."