from pent-up aching rivers, from that of myself without which I were nothing

yes that is a line from Whitman, above.  A good line for the sentiments expressed below and the physical place where we are this weekend.

 

We are visiting good friends in Brooklyn.  And, oh, how good it is to be away from the regular, routine days of our time at home.  Willa is having a blast with her friends V and R as she explores our friends' big, open apartment.  And, oh, how good it is to be away from the same routines of our everyday lives in ypsi.

 

I have come to such a stale place on some fronts of my life.  I feel worse than dry toast.  Ragged and tired of the chaos of work (and all worn out from 9 years of being a witness to the heinous actions of humankind).  And on top of that hugeness, I am just about over the complications that arise from living in too small of a town.

 

Don't get me wrong, I love my family and I love all of these new adventures we are experiencing with this growing, beautiful being, willa.  However, there is this place I am coming to, and it is like a stutter in the almost middle of my life.  

 

K and I are both hankering for change.  And this is coming from me, someone who thought she would die in the quaint, old house we live in at the almost top of a hill in a small town in an area that used to be wetlands and forest and now suffers from the aftermath of industrialization. 

 

There are those times when my heart gets beyond restless and difference seems like the resolution to that constant urge that itches and tickles the lining of my chest.  I am in one of those phases right now.  But, it is the most intense one I've ever expereinced and maybe really it is my mid-life crisis.  Maybe my earth sign is being shaken to the core and my roots are getting exposed.

 

 

 And, maybe just maybe, I 'll build up enough courage to do something differently.  To change the patterns that make my heart heavy.  Maybe a scenery change will come soon.  Maybe, not.  

In these interim places, while time pulses by and my baby's face changes every morning into something new and something more beautiful, I'll hold fast to the pent-up aching river of my longing for change.  Perhaps I'll take real steps to change my circumstances.  Maybe that will involve physically shifting where we spend most of the hours of our days, or maybe it will involve shifting my soul... 

Here's to New York for getting me to think more deeply about doing that which I dwell on.  Here's to holding change close and loving the fact that yearning has my stomach all a flutter with hope in that which is different and new.