Turn and face the strain

I've been concentrating as of late on other avenues of writing. Let me just say that the magical world of juvenile literature has continued to usher in a metomorphosis that I've found to be years, and YEARS in the making. Everything has lined up quite nicely to where we are now.

I thought I'd write a bit tonight about change. For the past few years my hopes and dreams have seemed so scattered. One day I want to live in a different state, one day a different universe, one day far away from all that I know, one day I want to live practically in my parent's front lawn. Comfort has been a burden and a nostalgia piece for me. I crave change, and at the same time, change has become a safety net. What I need most in life right now is to stay the hell put. I've come all this way (literally, over 4,000 miles) and already my gypsy tic is twitching. Such extremes have forced me to rethink every inch of who I am. In a good way. This is REAL change. This is REAL growth. If I don't stay put I'll miss so much. I can't funnel all of my energy into upheaval. I'm not Napoleon.

I'm still itchy though. I find myself scouring over craigslist for different rentals, different jobs, different cities. Luckily, I have a husband that is really, really good at "talking me off the cliff" (our words for my manic flights of fancy) so I'm getting calmer, calmer, calmer and better at realizing life is very beautiful. Beautiful enough to plant my feet a bit firmly on this earthquake-shaky ground of Alaska.

But that doesn't mean that my love of change, my need for change and improvement doesn't motivate me to dream a bit bigger. Our new journey will most likely take longer than the one we just ended, but ohmygoodness will it be the one that shakes all convention off of its foundation. If change (and my love of it) has taught me anything, it's that I think fast on my ever-walking feet. I'm a creative sonnuva and I'm finally going to put it to some motivated use. Every day can feel like this, if you just listen and let it.

A haiku for the rest of it.

Fourteen young houseplants
Plus, the lavender we grew
fill this fresh-found room