There is a great deal going on in my mind - well, there always is, if I am truthful. What you see on the surface doesn't always reflect what is happening inside. How true that is of almost everyone, though, to one degree or another.
My mind is a heaving mass of contradictions. I dream of adventures, and I dream of being home. I dream of distant places, and I dream of remodelling my bathroom. I think of becoming a nomad, and I consider how much I want to spend my time watching my granddaughter grow up. I need to be near my family, but they are all over the world. I dream of fireplaces, and the gardens I will plant, and I think of the mountain paths I want to wander. I decide I don't want any more stuff, and my Amazon wish list is now in double digit pages. I start a diet, and I start baking.
See? Contradictions. I am a contradiction. I am at war with myself at times. I think of lawyers, and I decide to walk away. I dream of walking away and I think of lawyers. I want to be able to go back to work. But I don't want to be working. I want to run, but I am afraid of damaging myself even more. I love my friends, but my friends are the safe option. I want to meet new people, but then I love my security. Peacemaker/warrior. Friends/strangers.
In essence, I want to live. Really live. Not just the exist part. Just live each day to the full. Wherever that may be. Because there is just me, I am the one who has to make things happen. So I need to step out of the comfort zone and try something new. Or decide that here is good and get used to the idea of staying put. Happily. Familiar/new.
One minute, I am talking about going to see the Aurora Borealis, and then next, I am deciding what to plant on the allotment next year. Part of me wants to go out and buy a VW campervan and paint daisies on the sides, and take to the roads like a gypsy of the 21C. The other wants to build my log cabin with triple glazing, a sleeping platform, huge great room with wood burning stove, sewing space and enormous couches. Piles of books. Quilts. And stay there forever. And have friends to stay. Gypsy/ homebody. Explorer/nester. Log cabin/camper van.
I want to quad bike with Crystal, walk round the lakes with Morning Glory, explore the beauties of Fall with Vee, sit on the beach with Susie, watch the children play with Sandra, discover the fjiords with Britt-Arnhild. I want to explore South Island with my daughter, and I want my sons to feel they can come home any time. Global trot/homefires. Dreams/reality.
I am in a unique position among the people I know. All I have to lose is the security. And who am I to place my idea of security in a pile of bricks and mortar? I certainly don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to keep the wretched bricks and mortar together, at the expense of my dreams.
When I finally end up in a rocking chair in the old age home, I absolutely want to be the one with the stories to tell of what I did, where I went, who I met, what I saw, what I found, how I laughed, what I learnt and how I lived. I do NOT want to have done nothing worthy of remembering with a grin. Nor do I want to have sacrificed my idea of life for society's norms.
I want to laugh. To love. To live.
There is a little part of me which longs to be outrageous. Maybe I should let it out to play.