In my last post, I discussed one of my favorite writers, Daniele LaPorte and one of the excerpts from her book : The Desire Map: A Guide to Creating Goals with Soul She had so many wonderful thoughts, exercises and writing prompts. I really enjoyed it and still do. In fact, I bought a copy for one of my friends.
In that same book, she lists some of her desires. From wanting to shave her head and also wanting to have long beautiful hair. Who hasn’t desired opposites? My big opposite desires are the freedom of being tied toanything, and my agricultural, living of the land simply dreams. In the same vein, but opposite. This is the duality I have always and will always feel. This tug I’ve never been able to fully reconcile. Quite frankly, I doubt I ever will.
But, in these opposites, I see similarity. I see that I crave a life of simplicity, semi-solitude, and quiet. Give me organic acoustic. I want the Bow and Arrow vs the rifle. Give me the Kayak vs the motor boat. I feel myself tense when I enter a city. My deep breaths are met with the sourness (ugh, Philly in Spring will make you eyes water). When I drive into the country, the mountains, the valleys I can breathe. The crick in my neck loosens and my heart can beat fully. I feel home.
I think within these opposite pulls, we need to find the similar thread, and I think this thread is part of the fabric that makes us us. The Sarah-ness of Sarah, or the Julia-ness of Julia.
One day I may find myself living in van down by the river or climbing crag moving with the seasons, or I may find myself on a small permaculture farm tending to my roots. I may also be working for a corporation BUT I’m sure I’ll always crave wide open spaces. I’m sure I’ll always dream. I’m sure I’ll always come up with wild ideas and I’m sure I’ll always, always be changing my mind.
Comfort comes from seeing the consistency of my wild dreams. It makes me feel not so much like a flailing teenager. It makes me feel like my pendulum of desire is no longer swinging as wildly from one extreme to another, but quietly swinging back and forth like a porch swing in a spring breeze. (Please note: this breeze is decidedly in the country and NOT in any major metropolitan area)