I don't know where to start. . .I am a gypsy soul trapped in a 9-5 world. I am not unhappy, not by any means. I have a beautiful son, good friends, a good life. I have a secure job and enough money to pay my bills. I love my neighborhood, and I love my sweet, little 90 year old green and yellow bungalow.
I just know that this is not how I want to spend my days.
I love to write. I love people. . .their insanity and their stories. I am a nurse and although I left the bedside, I still visit patients in the hospital for my job and the best part of my day is listening to them talk. Their struggles, their pain, their memories. I collect their stories.
I love adventures big and small and I love finding beauty in odd places. I love the chaos of my life. I love color and movement, words and noise. I like to be challenged, both mentally and emotionally. I like to create. I like to grow.
I love my son. He is a 4 year old force of nature, my own little hurricane. He exhausts me and frustrates me, then refills my soul with a single touch. Being a mother is so painful, so terrifying, and so amazing.
I love life. Making mistakes, growing older, growing wiser. Plucking out the white hairs that have been appearing more and more often. Long walks, feeling my leg muscles stretch and that slight pain in my left knee that never quite goes away. Sunshine on my skin. Sweat on my back.
But I want more.
I am both starving and terrified, curious and and closed. I should be content with where I am and what I am doing. But I'm not. There is a dull, persistent ache that keeps me awake at night, like the pain in my knee. It never quite goes away and I know it will get worse as I get older unless I do something about it.
What do you do when your dreams are vague but your longing is real? When you know, you just KNOW, that you are meant to do more than you are doing, that you are capable of great things, of amazing things. That you are not living up to your potential, not even slightly. That your hands long to create and your mind longs to explore. That you are not making the most of your brief time on this earth. That there is more you should be doing. There is more inside of you. There is more.
I just don't know where to start.