In high school, and especially in college, I was pretty convinced that I had the gypsy wandering spirit. I was restless, I was bored easily, I liked to be always moving on. Relationships with boys were often tumultuous and short-lived. I wanted to take a road trip every weekend. I thought life should always be colorful, and exciting. I closely identified with this song.
And also this one:
And I always worried what it would be like when I had to go to work every single day. To do the same things at the same place. And then come home every single night. To the same place. And especially, to the same person. I worried I couldn't do it. That I couldn't settle and couldn't stay. That I would always need to wander.
Keith and I got to travel a lot over the holidays. And it was wonderful. We spent some incredibly rich time with family and dear friends. And we drove. A ton. We passed lots of windshield time reading favorite books aloud to each other, and singing along to awesome new music, and gazing at incredible vistas. We talked about the play of light on sweeping landscapes and the magic of color and words and familiar faces and new worlds. We planned and we dreamed and we schemed and we laughed as the world sped past our windows. We had grand adventures. But by the end of it, I really did feel a little threadbare.
And then, when we finally made it home, for good, after nearly three weeks of travelling, we just melted with relief. And we holed up in our snug little house and watched movies and made dinner and talked and read and planned and dreamed and schemed some more. And listened to some more music. And laughed. And the adventure continues.
So, maybe I'm getting older and boring and more settled and I just don't crave the wandering anymore. Or maybe I've snagged myself such a well-suited partner that just sitting on the couch and talking feels like an adventure to me. Or maybe it's both of those things and a whole lot of others. Maybe I've found the adventure I crave inside of myself, and in the person next to me, and the life that we're building together, and all the wonderful place that can take us both mentally and physically.
Oh geez, I feel like this all sounds so cheesy, but it's honestly true! As it turns out, I don't really mind going to work at the same place every day. I find that I rarely do the same things there. And I do, I really do, at the end of the day, revel in coming home. To the same familiar place. Every single night. And especially, especially, to the same wonderful person.
I'll be leaving again next week, for three days of meetings and conferences in St. Louis. And I'll enjoy the experience. But I haven't even left yet, and already, I can't wait to be home.