It’s my mood these days.

I feel like I am saying goodbye to something, like I’m on the verge of something saying goodbye to me – I can’t make out. It’s a good, bittersweet kind of nostalgia, the kind that makes me extra sensitive to kind and beautiful things.

A tip-off to what is at the bottom of this is the music that appeals to me these days, like this beautiful music, and this (thanks, Jenna). Some of what it means for me to live in this place is in this music (and in Ritter’s music, for instance, “Roll on”). Roaming, moving on and leaving behind, wandering, drifting. Having to leave, wanting to leave, wanting to stay…

It is strange but on second thought only makes sense that  as I get more rooted in this place, as I consciously and conscientiously put my roots down, here, that this wanderlust sets in. I’ve known for some time now that if I didn’t have a husband and child I’d be a drifter.  I would not have known it five years ago, I didn’t have the maturity back then to know myself so well. It’s ironic that I have my husband and my daughter to thank for that maturity.

I’m not leaving. I’m making myself at home, but it is in this country of leaving, of having left.

I know, I know. This post is neither here nor there…

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  1. …grateful for all that was, aware of what will not be, ever more awake to all that is…dreaming in the present

    lovely sentiments you share.

  2. Perhaps we can’t even know the lure of wandering until we have commitments that secure us in place. I know that before I had stability and love, those were what I craved.

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