Is it just me, or does everyone find that no matter how generally grand life is, there always seems to be room for improvement? Is this merely my way of never becoming stagnant, however satisfied?
What I do know is that, in the past few months, I’ve gone from mysterious, maudlin and brooding (if I looked better in black, I’d have been a goth kid) to big-hearted, adventurous and (relatively) serene (and maybe just ever so slightly mysterious). And yet…. I still feel the pins and needles of desire in my belly from time to time. Not desire for material possessions, mind you. It’s not like I’m strolling the aisles at Tarjay when suddenly a set of microfleece sheets calls from its shelf and sets my gut aflutter. No, this is desire to NOT STAND STILL. To keep moving (figuratively and possibly literally), because I have not arrived at the proper destination.
And maybe the desire of which I speak is not something within me, but an exterior force (some would call it the universe) pushing me oh-so-gently on when I make the mistake of thinking I can rest for a while.
Point is – in the past, I’ve spent a good deal of time dreaming up ideas and immediately shooting them down as impossible or impractical. But with the same imagination used to concoct these plans and the same time and effort used to constantly veto them, I could have instead been finding ways to make the “impossible” possible.
I realize this is all very vague at the moment, but suffice it to say I’m spending much more time these days making things happen and always, always moving.