The Places You Will Be From

Sometimes there are lyrics that play 'round and 'round in my head.  There is nothing I can do to make them stop.  Well, almost nothing.

Today's clever tune is Semisonic's Closing Time.  There are so many brilliant lyrics.  And it's so applicable.

Closing time; it's time for you to go out to the places you will be from.

Well, that's so true isn't it?  It is time.  It's always time.  I have no idea where it is that I'll be from, but this particular place is old, and it's haggard.  It needs a fresh coat of paint, a new rug, and everything should be rearranged.  Yep.  I said it - everything.

I find that it's hard to realize you're stuck in the place you are currently from.  Who actively decides to give up their will be place?  Not me.  But once you realize you're stuck, it's even harder to make the change.  Just like when you stumble out of the bar late at night, disoriented, lost, and wandering because you're not sure where you are going, finding your way home is a just a little more than scary.  Maybe the comfort of familiar places lulls us into dreading anything slightly new.

Slightly new means risk.  It means turning down a road you've never seen before.  It means talking to people you don't even know.  And it means giving up the warm bar stool you searched for all night, not because you really want to - but because it is time.

In nearly twenty four months, huge changes - personal and professional - have come, and huge changes have gone, but there is a gnawing, a hollow unsettled knot in my gut, that has never gone away.  As per usual, I'm restless and want to wander.  I have no idea where the path goes, or what my life will look like in another twenty four months, but the only thing in focus is the something else my life could be.  Or should be.  Someday.

There are so many things I've never done, so many things I've wanted, needed, and longed for.  A degree in something I love.  A job that satisfies my soul and not my wallet.  People who will complete my family.  I close my eyes, and I am missing things and people who have yet to ever exist.  Most notably, my child.  Folks, I've wanted to be a lot of things in my life, but the only thing that has never waivered is my deep desire to be a mother.  Everyday I close my eyes and I find myself missing someone who I don't even know.  And it's not because I'm 31.  I've felt this way for as long as I can ever remember.   

This blog isn't to tell you all that I'm having a child (this is how rumors get started!), but it is to tell you that there is something out there for me that is bigger than all this.  I don't know if my job will change or I'll get a new degree - but my place look so very different now.  And so, there's no point today, my friends, except to acknowledge that there is change brewing inside me.  I have no idea where I'm going, but I hope you'll follow along as I figure it out.

As always, thanks for reading.