Impermanence

That cliché, all who wander are not lost, is false. Some are.

Like me for instance.

One moment feels so very close to finally discovering that sweet place of belonging I’ve long been searching for, as if I’m right up near its edge, then before I know it, boom! My confidence starts to shift, doubt comes crawling back in and I’m scrambling toward the opposite direction away from what I’d just desired, or maybe only tried to convince myself I did. An ever returning inner angst forces me to flee from committing to any big decision. So, instead, I remain stuck. Again. Or find myself returning to what’s familiar, to what feels safer even if it isn’t. Yet, I’m beginning to wonder if maybe the point of it all, another truer cliche, is actually about coming full circle only to realize what I’ve been searching for all this time I already had all along. A moralistic truth only evident through acquired wisdom collected along a journey magnifying what was overlooked before. Maybe it’s as simple as (re)learning to pay closer attention to our own daily lives, which really isn’t simple at all in a world powerfully intent on distracting us from it.

The trick, however, is holding onto the gift of a more intentionally focused way of seeing and not allowing judgement or cynicism to hijack our enchantment from it. So often every day joys slip by unseen, but they are what change the lens through which we view everything. From the slightest appearance, like the slow wave of a butterfly’s wing or tiny beacon of light blinking from a firefly on a cool summer’s night, to those significant enough to mend our tattered hearts, like your adult child cradling their own newborn child or your son exchanging vows in his bride’s native language as an expression of the depth of his love and respect for her. These moments of indescribable beauty heal us. They move us in ways that assure our own sense of belonging, that we are all intricately connected to life around us, despite living in a society that’s been orchestrated to make us believe the opposite.

Traveling alone, especially following great losses, has taught me that solo existence needs massaging to become a more comforting state of  independence. Previously undiscovered parts of ourselves, newer identities, have to be nurtured into being. For me, this has been as much about gathering as it has been about choosing to see with a more disciplined presence. Pieces of the places I’ve been or people I’ve met while traipsing around the country are now also parts of me. It’s kind of been a refurbishing of who I was to who I now am and want to be. I’ve learned how to hold onto the more cherished parts of my past while releasing parts that haunt me. This inner reassembling makes space to receive unexpected opportunities for belonging when they come along. It reminds me of when my mom often rearranged furniture in my childhood home. I’d return sometimes and it all would look different than when I’d left, same house but a changed interior. She always seemed lighter afterwards, more at ease in welcoming guests. This is how I feel now. Knowing myself better enables others to know me better too. Being less distracted invites a desire for me to know them more fully also.

So, I’m giving myself unhurried grace to appreciate big and little joys every day - life’s seasonings, while rediscovering myself and remembering this is not a race. Over time, my independence resulting from living alone has made me greatly appreciate the choice to set my own pace. What once felt like loneliness now feels like freedom. Freedom is a gift. Freedom allows me to have choice. I’m grateful for my freedom to choose where I go, how I see, what I keep and what I let go - freedom to create my own path and map my own journey not restricted by what someone else dictates. But freedom is fluid, it can easily slip away without us even noticing it’s beginning to fade, until suddenly it’s no longer there and just as suddenly our lives feel small and confined. Life is precious because of its impermanence, that understanding end of life is inevitable. Freedom is precious because it can so easily be taken away. Freedom can be impermanent too.