I'm a vagabound
I'm a wandering nomad. I've accepted it as a part of who I am. Why is it that I am more comfortable when I have a suitcase packed? I love the fact that I can fit my whole world into a suitcase, all the other things are just superfulous. When I came back from Chile two months ago, I left my suitcase unpacked for about a month before I finally put everything away. Even when I lived in Hungary for seven years, I always had the mentality that I wasn't going to be staying there for too long.
I'm not sure when this came about, I guess it's the lifestyle I got into while growing up. We moved to three countries in my twenty years of living. In between these three, I've visited several countries. I am so used to change that I take it head on, without any fear.
These days I've tried to imagine what my heart would look like if I had it in my hands. I think it would be three times bigger than a usual heart should be and quite battered, from lunging into love as if there was nothing to be terrified about. I used to be so impulsive, that I didn't care what the consequences would be. Today I see that my heart is asking me desperately to take a breath and stop. That it doesn't regenerate as easily as it used to and I need to be more careful.
I can see my mushy heart, stitches here and there from being ripped a few times, a little bit of color, hiding the black marks and a bit of sunshine peeking in from the gaps. I know that I have so much to give, but sometimes I come to a halting stop and wander what I'm doing.
I just know that I find that love seems to be the answer in all cases, and even though my heart might not be able to take another beating, it still needs to demonstrate what it was meant to do: and that is the ability to love.
Because even though I'm a wandering spirit, my heart longs to settle and just be. Besides all the restlessness and the intermingled fear, it just longs to find something to hold onto. That's what I've been working on in the last few months. Just being. Because, even as wonderful it sounds to be travelling, there needs to be a place where you can come back to after all that wandering.
Yes, I'm working on that place..
I'm not sure when this came about, I guess it's the lifestyle I got into while growing up. We moved to three countries in my twenty years of living. In between these three, I've visited several countries. I am so used to change that I take it head on, without any fear.
These days I've tried to imagine what my heart would look like if I had it in my hands. I think it would be three times bigger than a usual heart should be and quite battered, from lunging into love as if there was nothing to be terrified about. I used to be so impulsive, that I didn't care what the consequences would be. Today I see that my heart is asking me desperately to take a breath and stop. That it doesn't regenerate as easily as it used to and I need to be more careful.
I can see my mushy heart, stitches here and there from being ripped a few times, a little bit of color, hiding the black marks and a bit of sunshine peeking in from the gaps. I know that I have so much to give, but sometimes I come to a halting stop and wander what I'm doing.
I just know that I find that love seems to be the answer in all cases, and even though my heart might not be able to take another beating, it still needs to demonstrate what it was meant to do: and that is the ability to love.
Because even though I'm a wandering spirit, my heart longs to settle and just be. Besides all the restlessness and the intermingled fear, it just longs to find something to hold onto. That's what I've been working on in the last few months. Just being. Because, even as wonderful it sounds to be travelling, there needs to be a place where you can come back to after all that wandering.
Yes, I'm working on that place..
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hi! thanks for stopping by.
I love hearing what you think, don't be shy :)
and I hope you have a lovely day!