I've been having some unusual thoughts lately. While these thoughts have been unusual for me, I acquiesce that they are not that extraordinary for the average person:
I have been thinking of NOT moving.
As I have previously alluded to - or perhaps even talked about outright - I move a lot. In fact, since I left my parents' home (the first time) nearly 16 years ago, I have moved 13 times. I have lived in 5 countries on 3 continents. I have not lived in the same town for more than 3 1/2 years. Moving, for me and my family, is constant. It's what we do.
For the most part, I like it. I love the adventure of discovering a new place and I love being able to meet new people. However, there have been some drawbacks to this lifestyle. First and foremost, there is the beurocracy: the visas and permits that are required to live in a foreign country, which have meant that, for as long as we've been doing this, I have been entirely dependent upon my husband to provide for our family. This is because a) his company provides us with the necessary paperwork and b) I am generally not allowed to work. Also, I have found it very difficult to allow myself to start anything, knowing that I will not be able to finish it before we find ourselves packing again.
But lately, as a result of my yearning for more independence and my undertaking new projects for myself (classes, etc) I have found myself toying with the incredible thought of actually NOT moving. I think I might like to stay in one spot for at least a few more years. I'd like to be able to get back on my feet and see where this path is leading me. It's a bit of a scary thought, this wish to be immobile; this wish for something like stability. But I kind of like the idea of giving myself some time to see where I'm going.
Maybe the trick is that in order to let myself go, I needn't really go anywhere at all.
Maybe the trick is that in order to let myself go, I needn't really go anywhere at all.
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