I have a severe case of wanderlust. I get these days were I feel like I need to break free from the mediocrity of life. The mundane, every day crap of life. Now, don’t get me wrong, my life is good. I have great children, a job and my necessities are taken care of. But, deep in the marrow of my bones, I am a wanderer. A nomad. It crawls on my skin, soaking into my soul, to wander. I am not meant to stay in one place.
However, being a parent limits my ability to wander. I have to stay rooted, for now, and give my children stability and security.
That will not keep me from exploring with them. Giving them the desire to see new things, explore, wander, travel, learn, and soak up all that there is in this world. Experiences outweigh stuff.
My soul longs for the road less traveled. I am in love with places I have never been. I get restless, unable to stay in one spot. I want to move, see new sights. Eat new foods. Be completely wrapped up in another place, like a warm blanket swaddling me in the comfort of travel. I need to break free.
I have been told that I am depressed or bi polar or unable to cope with life. I will agree to some extent. I have suffered depression, and when I am high, I am high, and when I am low, it’s very low. However, I know, my heart and soul cry out, that I am a wandering spirit. I can’t be caged into one place. I have to be free to soar. Let the wind take me where it desires.
I am a nomad. I have a serious case of wanderlust and it can’t be tamed. While for now my life must have roots and stability, one day, I will run and wander until I am content. Which I hope will be never.