positively painfully honestly strange.

Strange would an appropriate way to describe theme and feel of my week. It's been unnerving at times. There have been multiple monumental life marker moments. It's almost been too much. I say almost, as it all fits appropriately inside the knob that I've been using to turn up the volume. But sometimes, when you turn it up louder than it's ever been, these sounds and tones and notes come out that you haven't ever heard before, and the loudness makes you feel a little strange. This week, the last week of March in the year two-thousand and ten, I have felt a lot of strange.

My week of strangeness follows a week of revelations, which is another reason why it has only been almost too much, instead of all the way.

I had a friend post a link on facebook today questioning the argument of stability over movement. The link led to an article about a Duke divinity grad that had written a book touting the goodness of rooting oneself in one place, instead of moving on to different or more.

I am not doing this - choosing stability. I am moving on. I haven't read his book, and don't know the root of his perspective, but I would venture to say that the argument over moving on or staying put is unique to the individual and the individual's situation.

Last week I asked myself these questions, more heavily than usual. I am going, and I am confident with my decision. There is a line in "The Drifter and the Gypsy", the song that Meagan gifted to me, that says, "The train is almost here, this decision seems so clear...". Yep. That almost sums it up. Today, and for a while now, I have not craved or needed stability. It hasn't been on my list of priorities, or a factor I consider when making any kind of decision about my future. Since this isn't the norm among individuals, my thought is that I should ride this unstable wave while it's here. If I am comfortable with movement and change, I should embrace it while it lasts, and experience much while the specifics of my circumstance encourage this adventure that I crave.

Following that was my next revelation, that pesky pest, desired companionship. This has been a word I try to avoid and a thought I try not to indulge. I proactively allot more space in my head for other things. But while spending added time last week asking myself, honestly, what is at the root of my inclination to go and my choice to see and experience more, this usually diluted desire kept bouncing back to the surface of my thoughts. I labeled it a bad guy long ago, and have, for a long time, treated it as a weakness. During one season of my life, post being hurt by other people, I fully grasped how important it is for people to not depend on others to know themselves. Defining oneself through others can be exceptionally unhealthy, and it's my belief that the more you are okay with just yourself, the more you welcome healthy and functional relationships into your life. Because of my self-sufficient soap box, I mistakingly crammed the desire for companionship, instead of just the need for companionship, into the box shameful things.

Last week, I gave myself permission to embrace what's natural, healthy, and for most people, human. Since I am a bit of a drifter, adventurer, I must go. But I realized that a really really big part the the decision to leave, and not just think about leaving, is this innate desire to find companionship, and someone to share all of this adventuring with. I have realized that if this is the way that I want to do life, to see and experience more, it's unlikely that I will find a like-minded person that's here in this place, staying put. Possible, but unlikely. And so, it makes sense to go and adventure for myself, which also increases the possibility that someone will come along somewhere along the way of change, someone that's adventuring in the same sort of way.

Two-thousand and ten isn't just about taking more risks. It's also about living honestly. I don't want to spend emotional energy suppressing natural and healthy tendencies, as that seems unhealthy and dishonest. I want to walk forward, look ahead, and feel everything that comes, fully, even if what comes is rooted in a disappointment that's stems from what hasn't.

Post revelations, a more open version of myself passed through. It's a me that's choosing to embrace the positive aspect of things, while still fully feeling the negative. And I truly think I believe that this openness opens one up to so much more life. The painfully positive is opening me up, even more, to the wonderfully strange.