I have never really been one for adventure. No, that sounds wrong. Who doesn't love adventure? I think I meant to say that I have never been one to necessarily need adventure. I've always been a bit of a homebody,and I rarely, if ever, find myself bored. I am pretty content to just do the normal little things that a girl might do in her normal little non-adventurous world. I have had some adventure. The biggest would maybe be living for a semester in Jerusalem through BYU's study abroad program. And, I think our time on St. Simon's Island in GA was an adventure as well as being off on our own in WA for a few years. Still, none of those experiences necessarily made me overly hungry for more adventures.
Lately, however, I am feeling so adventure hungry. And it makes me feel so torn. Of course, "torn" suggests there are two options, and I don't know that there is a very realistic option for adventure right now, but my feelings are torn. There is something very appealing about the idea of being "settled" -- of establishing your little family somewhere permanent in the world where you can get to know neighbors and ward members and schools in a life long type of way; where your kids can feel secure that they will have the same friends a year from now -- or two or three or ten. I like the idea of getting a home paid off and not uprooting and starting over again. It was hard on Abe this last move, and I imagine it only gets harder as kids get older. And, the thing is, we are where we want to be. This IS where we want to end up and be established. But now that we are here I am feeling very much like, "Am I ready to 'end up'" yet? I don't know.
It is just each time I hear of a friend or family member contemplating heading off to take a job or go to school in some new place for awhile, I feel all wistful and like that is exactly what I want to do -- be all unsettled and unsure of where the road is leading. Unsettled? Weird. But there is seriously some excitement associated with the times in our marriage when we have wondered where we would be . . . and when and how. Do I want to suddenly leave and have Mike take this job to another state? No, that would be silly. We feel very lucky we were able to get back here and wouldn't want to risk losing that ever. Plus, I admit I may have added a little something of -- oh I don't know -- some poetry to the idea of being off in a new and unfamiliar place. We could go someplace new and find our circumstances miserable. But there is something so great about learning about a new place and having that place tucked securely in your mind as one of your places and as one of your life experiences.
I saw a blog the other day of a couple who are spending several months in Rwanda. Probably not the best place to cart our kids, but I just get this -- I don't know, almost a painful longing in my stomach to see and be a part of all of the different things and place that are out there. Even seeing the different trees and scenery gave me kind of this clawing feeling under my ribs like something trying to get out and get there.
I know, maybe we'll find time and money to travel when we get older. And I would love that. But that is not the longing I am talking about. Traveling doesn't allow you to BE a part of something the way living there does. That doesn't mean it isn't enjoyable, but it isn't the feeling I am antsy to have. In Israel I remember feeling horrified at the thought of having to just see the spots once and not getting to walk daily on the streets or see the small insignificant things about the place. That is how I feel. Like I want to know more of that still. I don't mean to sound discontent. Because that isn't it. I don't feel discontent with here . . . I just feel simultaneous longing for -- elsewhere. And as far as adventure goes, I realize life is fairly adventurous raising five very small children! And, as I mentioned, if an opportunity to move came along, I don't even feel that I'd want it. I would cry to leave. This is home. In fact when Mike mentions moving again just to a new house I nearly slug him (but that is more about packing and unpacking). And yet . . . sigh. What made me start wanting you, Adventure?