I have become a little more grounded lately with structures, disciplines, schedules, and just general things I go by daily. I’ve been interpreting it as my nesting phase in pregnancy but I’m beginning to suspect that it’s becoming more than that. This is becoming who I am.
But I wasn’t always like this and in a way, I’m still not. I’m a free spirit that can’t be confined under anyone’s control.
“You’re a wind. You come and go as you please. There is no use trying to hold you down because you can’t shackle a wind.”
That is what Helen said once long ago. She said that there’s an endless thirst for adventure in me that without my freedom to do as I please, I turn into an angry storm.
Having said that, if I had three months to do what I wanted to do, I’d pack a backpack with an extra pair of clothes, my camera, sunscreen with a ticket to Europe. I’d rent a temporary/short-term apartment with a leaky faucet and windows so dirty you couldn’t really call it a window. The walls would be made of brick and the bed layered with many mismatching blankets that you’d sink in it. This small apartment’s characteristics would tell a story all its own. Then I’d buy a bicycle just good enough to take me from point A to point B and I’ll eat at a different place every day. I’d work at a local diner or maybe even a little rundown bookshop to help me get by. But I wouldn’t need much because I wouldn’t require any luxury. It’d be just me, my camera, my bike, the plushy bed, and locals who would tell me their stories in a language I couldn’t understand. Then when my adventure there is done, I’d just follow the wind to the next. Probably Thailand.
What a wishful thinking, eh?
Helen was wrong though. If she saw me now she’d take back her “angry storm” comment and say that I’ve become like a warm, summer wind swirling around my family. Maybe a little too much though because I can’t seem to stop hovering over them to pick up after this… and that…