A Nomadic Soul

I have a nomadic soul. I get antsy after being in one place for too long. After about a year I start to long for change.

This weekend Bryan and I decided to move to Arizona so that Bryan could pursue some treatment there. We plan on being there for two to three months but the exact time frame will depend a lot on how Bryan's body responds to the treatments.

The truly crazy part is that we decided to try to be back in AZ by Monday because the sooner Bryan starts the better.

Today as I stressed out over packing, Bryan and I smiled at each other a knowing smile of enjoyment. We like this. We like setting off on new adventures, changing things up, not getting stuck in the same old routine.

As I drove down town to pick Bryan up from work this afternoon it dawned on me why I long for change so often (or at least part of why).

My soul is not uniform.

My soul is divided.

I drove through the crowded streets of down town, looking up at the brick buildings towering above me and hearing the clatter and clash of the city and I breathed it all in. Soaking it into my soul thinking, "oh, yeah, I love this." There is a part of my soul that feeds on the energy of a city.

But as I drove farther I saw the water, sparkling under the sun which just peaked out from the clouds for a moment. I thought of the beach and the way that the waves pounding on the shore speaks to my heart. I thought of long walks on the beach. The sand in my toes. The tides lapping at my feet. The rhythm and calm of the beach is home for my soul.

My mind then wondered to the dry warmth of the desert. I can almost feel the hot air embracing me in my mind. The open sky's and powerful mountains call to me. The cactus blooming so rarely and yet so perfectly amidst the thorns reaches into my heart and teaches me truth. The desert holds a special place in my soul.

Oh, and then there's the forest. The deep greens, the stretching canopy of trees, the mountain peaks. The cool refreshing air. The rain that sprinkles down it's melancholy kisses. Yes, my soul is feed here too.

I long for the sprawling fields of the country AND the stimulation of the city. I long for the roar of the waves on the beach AND the pitter-patter of the rain on the leaves. I want to walk the streets that have stood the test of time and carried the great and the small before me. And I want to run away in hermit-like solitude.

I am never happy where I am because part of my soul always wants to be somewhere else. And yet part of me is content wherever I am because part of my soul wants to be there.

I am drawn to all places and cultures, drawn to all climates and environments. And yet part of me is not. I am divided. And so I can find peace in a place for only a short time before the other parts of me start yelling for attention. Too long in the cold and rain and the part of my soul that loves the dry warmth begins to revolt.

And so I long to keep moving. Keep experiencing. Keep feeding each part of my soul in turn.

Rejoicing in the journey, Bethany Stedman