We are moving. Again. This will be my 16th move in my 30 years of life. The majority of those moves have been in the past 6 years.
I cannot stay still. I'm like those people you see that are always moving their bodies, only I have to re-locate my life. My soul is never content on staying in one place, so once the wind starts blowing my way I look on to what's next for me, or more recently, us.
I am certian I know when it started. You see, in high school I dated a boy who's family would always go on the awesome vacations, and during the almost two years we dated I go to tag along. I went places that were breath taking an awe inspiring to me. Thus a love of travel blossomed after our puppy love died out. My family never really vacationed. We went on endless trips to Disneyland, and we still do, and one trip up the coast of Cali when we were all older. Not sure why.
I started traveling when I was in 18. I lived in Montana for a month, drank up the big sky country with arms open, but the timing in my life was wrong and I didn't get as much out of the experience as I should have. (This was right after the puppy love ended mind you.) Then it was New York city. I was so far away from home, and it was so new and exciting to me. I wanted to move out there as soon as I got home. Then I went on my first cruise to Baja.
After this I started moving, no where really exciting, out of my parents house at 19, out of Cali at 24. But nothing ever feels right. No matter how many times I move after a while, I start to get that itch. I've always wanted more, not to be one who settles in one spot until they die, I feel the need to see, taste, and touch everything life has to offer. I feel like I'm missing something, like I haven't found my "home" yet.
Luckily, my husband is patient. He knows it will probably be a very long time until he gets to buy a house, we tried once, but my fear of commitment ultimately got in the way. I just want to feel like I can go whenever we want, once a lease is up we can change things, be they across town or to a new state. He reluctantly has agreed to move to Oregon, (Possibly that is, part of why we are taking a big va-cay there this summer, a scouting trip I call it) and has even pacified my wanderlust at times by promising to retire in a foreign country one day. Truth is, my husband has seen and experienced things he never imagined with me as his wife. I think he kind of likes my spontaneity, it gives him something he never had. Before me he had hardly been out of the state of California, now he's spent 2 years of his life experiencing Nevada, and he's also sunned on the beaches of Hawaii, and will soon parade the streets of PDX and SFC. And my son, will be the most well traveled kid around, he will be like the ex boy-friend of mine. Winters in Hawaii, summers in Europe, trips here and there. He will have what I've dreamed and longed for, stamps on his passport.
I may never feel satisfied. I told my husband I'll settle eventually, but I'll need to travel. My soul is just too restless. The world is a big place, with many corners to explore and I want to see them all. But for now we go back to safety, back to our roots, back to the only place that's felt close to "home", until that darned wind starts to blow again...