I wanted to write this week about something that has been on my mind a lot more lately.
Maybe it’s because I don’t have a guy to spend my mental energy on, maybe it is just me; however I always tend to wind up on this topic of thought when I do not have much going on in my life.
The thought is really more of a fear. A fear I do not have enough time. A fear that I actually realized today, could be best described as, ” I am afraid if I sit still too long; I will miss out on life.”
Picture if you will, the image of you. You are sitting on the ground, legs are crossed, back is straight, arms in. You feel calm, and yet around you swirls life. Moving around you, the noise is loud and it is hard for you to hear one conversation.Â It is energy being thrown at you.
Energy of new and exciting places.
Energy of meeting new people. A new job. A new zip code. The energy of meeting guys and wondering if you will miss out if you stay stuck in that one spot. Fear keeping you there. A game you play with yourself called “what if.”
A wickedly dangerous game and yet we still play. I sit, in my spot afraid I will miss life. Afraid I won’t have the chance to go on that epic road trip or get the stamps in the passport I don’t own yet.
I’m scared because of how old I feel.
My flesh looks young. My soul feels old.
I feel as if I am racing against an invisible time clock that is always keeping track of what I haven’t done yet.
Do I acknowledge all that I have done? No.
And so I race. In my head.
Maybe approaching 30 has something to do with it? Maybe not. Maybe I just live in worry and fear because those are safe spots to live in.
And then I run. Not physically but mentally do I run.
My current fantasy is renting my condo out,Â putting my truck on the barge along with me; giving my job the finger and setting sails to lower 48 pastures.
Once in Washington the adventure would begin. Spend some time with my Aunt would be a definite must. Next I may head down the West Coast visiting friends and family, or I may say fuck it and carry on towards the East. Crossing state borders casually over time. Driving until my intuition told me to stop and make this home. For now.
Always just for now. Even as a young kid I can remember moving. I was so exited. New room, new environment, new energy. I loved it. We moved 3 times when I was a kid. I got bored. I wanted to move on to the next adventure. I never could understand why my mom hated to move!
To me it was the best thing.
I see this pattern in my own life. I know I own a home. I know I own a truck. These things make it harder to just pick up and go, however they do not make it entirely impossible. I run. I run. I run. Mentally my brain paints pictures.
Or is it just who I am? Is it OK to get bored with a town, or even a state and want to go on to the next thing?