I am at a strange point in my life. I can feel deep within my heart, that same familiar tug that always accompanies thoughts of home. By all logic, that's where I should be. It's where my family is: my mom, my dad, my brother, my beloved horses, my dogs, the sunshine, friends... it's safe and it's familiar and it is a place that I have found comfort and belonging in for the last 22 years. This will be the first time I spend my birthday away from my family too, and the thought makes me so sad. I miss them, and I miss home fiercely. I facetimed with my family tonight. The screen door was thrown wide open, signaling that familiar, wonderful warmth that accompanies California summers, my brother had just gone for a swim in the pool, my dad was reading one of his plane magazines, the dogs were curled up beside each other, and everything just felt so good, so terribly inviting. I want to cry just thinking about it. And yet, something within me is holding me back from returning. Something that screams adventure, something wild. For the first time in my life I feel like I need to do something on my own- I need to make my own way. And still, it scares me to death.
I have been spending a lot of time in Duvall, Washington lately, and it is there that I feel excitement and belonging. It's a beautiful, quaint country town nestled in a lush, green valley and absolutely surrounded by mountains. I have met so many amazing, lovely people from there, and every one of them has been like a beacon to me, one more reason to stay where I am. And the mountains... I love the mountains here. They call to me all the time, and I yearn to explore their depths, to become acquainted with the caverns and the meadows and the cliff ledges. I want to traverse forest streams, to dive beneath the waters of the Sound, and to climb some of the hidden gems tucked deep within the hills. I just want to run until I become too tired to think or move or breathe. Most of all, I need to find myself, and I think that in order to do that I need to lose myself in the wilds, and in the unknown places. Last week while on a hike, I found myself coming to the end of trail after trail, only to start on a new one because I felt this frantic urge to keep going, as though I was chasing something. I would come around a corner or push my way through some thick ferns, and I would catch a glimpse of the elusive being I was pursuing: me. I have felt so alone these last few months, like I have no one here, like not a soul in the world cares- and that has scared me. I used to think I could handle solitude, and now I understand just how hard it is for me to deal with it. I have never been alone- I have always been surrounded by people, but now that I am alone with my thoughts, and with my future looming large and undetermined in the foreground, I feel myself begin to cave beneath the weight of them. But maybe this is where I need to be. Maybe this is going to teach me the value of being alone. Maybe I can finally discover myself.
Home is safe, but I'm not sure that safety is what I need right now. I think I need danger, I need the unexpected, I need to feel what solitude truly feels like, and I need to know that I can take care of myself when no one else is there to. In the beginning I was simply choosing to stay here for the wrong reasons, I was still clinging to some disillusioned hope for the future, but now I know I need to do this for me. I have to start thinking about myself and about the future I will lead. So whether I eventually return home, or I decide to stay forever in Washington, I know through it all I am me, and that is something that will never change.
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