Althaea Sebastiani
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Rambling Thoughts, Adventure Nigh

2/17/2017

 
mountains from the roadside
Clouds rest heavy on the mountains, perfect accompaniment to the wandering thoughts of a wandering drive.
I’ve been negligent here.

Life is very full right now, poised on the brink of adventure. The last few months, the children and I have been paused, waiting, biding our time. But now… everything is falling into place and the remaining details are being worked out.

The road calls, the wilderness beckons.
​
The baby is nearly 9 months old now. The resulting hormonal changes have left me spread thin. I am here, and there, and also over there. Watching, feeling, seeing… A foot in both worlds; some days are easier than others. Easier to be functional, easier to handle the high energy of the children, easier to handle the emotional rollercoaster of doing the deep work, easier to handle the heavy weight of waiting.

I’m sick of waiting.

There’s so much to do and so little time to do it, yet there’s always enough time to toss out a misquote that borders on cliché.

Scattered thin and pulled in so many directions. The promise of reclusion, of solitude, of quiet, of no other people around for miles …it’s enticing, intoxicating, my mental-caffeine (as it were) right now. It is this goal and coming future that are keeping me going right now, keeping me breathing and pushing away the garbage that only serves as a distraction.

Why are there always so many distractions?

Pulled so far, so thin… signs and omens are compounding, spirit whisperings are growing louder, binds that are being unraveled and cut are fighting back, winding tighter. But the force they once held is gone, burned by the brilliance of a future that rests strongly upon nothing more than daring, nothing more than the strength to say no.

Don’t be afraid to say no. Don’t be afraid to do the irrational and adventurous things that your soul demands you do. Don’t allow other people’s fear and refusal to act keep you in place, keep you afraid, keep you waiting.

The Spring holds promise. That’s only metaphorical if you choose to allow it to be so. I choose for that promise to be adventure. What do you choose for that promise to be?

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