Here We Go…Again

I may have been cursed at birth, or perhaps I was born at the wrong time.  I have never been able to sit still, settle into one place and let my roots take hold.  I suffer from wanderlust, have the soul of a sailor who is always looking back out to the sea and suffer from itchy feet.

This occurred to me as Beloved settled into a comfortable chair and indicated he could get used to “here”.  I couldn’t see “here” or even “there” as being a place I could get used to.  There are always so many things to see, explore and learn and staying in one place just seems wrong.

Poor Beloved, the man mentioned a desire to go to Denmark for a day or two.  And off I went, a huge list of other places to go and see.  A need for more than a short flight, short drive or a tiny trip.

I can’t explain it, but the idea of calling one place home just gives me the creeps.  I can’t fathom being tied down completely to one place that offers no means away from the place.  Trapped I guess is the correct word.  Being trapped frightens me.  No exit strategy scares me.

While Beloved is finding the right location for the comfortable chair, my heart is yearning to pick up, pack up and head out to somewhere beyond.  Somewhere other, different and somewhat new.

Denmark is not a place that I see myself exploring for a few years.  I adore Denmark, but only for visits.  I feel the same about Finland, Sweden and Iceland.  These are places Beloved could see himself settling his comfortable chair into without any issue.

I wonder if comfortable chairs come with wheels and various or tracks etc. for mobility, just because you never know where my wanderlust will take me next!  Maybe swim fins need to be added too, just in case!

If Beloved no longer wishes to be a travel companion, maybe I can grab a roaming gnome or two!

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One Wave Ahead or Drifting Away

Lately it seems even when in I do my harbor  for the coming tempest, I still drift away.  It isn’t a case of lack battening down hatches, securing the ropes and ensuring the anchor is in the water.

It is as if the rip tide and tugging winds are greater than my measures of securement.   I find myself drifting further out than expected, the anchor line drawn tight to the point of almost snapping.

I always find this to be the case when I’ve basically settled somewhere, the water and the wind call to me, as though I may have settled a bit too soon.  It seems that there is more of the world that demands I see it, demands I not get too comfortable.

Thankfully Beloved doesn’t mind this habit off mine.  He offers shelter from the coming storm, helps untangle lines and cut me free.  He simply waits for me to come backs om is harbor, he lets me drift when I need to, sometimes we drift together and other times alone.  He pulls me into shelter when I ignored the storm and he sees how I get tangled up in myself long before I do.  When this happens, he untangles me or cuts me free.  It is as if he is always one wave ahead of me.