I am not in the right place. I don’t mean I took a wrong turn and will be late for lunch or showed up at the wrong building for a doctor’s visit.
No, it’s the constantly nagging sensation that I’m in the wrong space. Instead of feeling anchored and stable, though all signs indicate I am, I feel like I’m floating in my life – unmoored within a forgotten bay with an eddy current being all that keeps me from moving toward elsewhere. It’s a sense of not belonging – that there’s something I just can’t attach to here because my attachment point is somewhere else that I haven’t identified.
It’s not the need to run. It’s not that I don’t want to face something. I am content in myself and my general life; rather, it’s this intangible sense that I’m simply in the wrong place. However, at this juncture in life I must keep remain in the eddy that is my daughter and I’m not going to leave her. She will be finishing high school soon and on her own journey. I don’t know where she’ll choose to go or what will happen but then I will have time to find my right place and who knows that right place may not actually be a place at all. Instead, it may be the momentum of the open road. The thing is, while I’ve been in a relative homeostasis for the last 17 years, I’ve never imagined being in a place and having all of the accouterments of permanence around me. To my heart, the world is my home and perhaps that’s why I feel as if I’m in the right wrong place. It’s not that I am presently in the wrong place specifically, but more that being in a specific place for an extended period of time does not compute with my nomadic psyche. As with all things, though, only time will tell and until that time I will continue to grow and think, interact with and experience life. Until the next chapter begins, I will continue to enjoy this interesting life and have as much fun as possible in this cosplay of a person who lives the repetitive nature of the day-to-day.
Spread Your Dreams 