RestLESSness

Mm hmm, yep: I am that person who, three years later and with little by way of explanation, picks up her blog once again and continues to witter.

Notable changes - I am:
* older than before, but younger than after
* bigger in some ways - smaller in others
* back in my Welsh Wales homeland - possibly for eternity
* living with a man, full-time, and by choice. A man that I love
* in transition (also known as job-free) (also by choice)
* restless... almost breathlessly so, at moments. Ill at ease from the toes to top and back down again.

Itchingly.

Leg-twitchingly.

My inner fidget is, well, doing just that. My nomadic inclinations are dancing the quickstep. I am quite, quite lost and utterly flummoxed by this curiosity called direction. Which one to go in? Who, if anyone, to follow? Where should I be (if a should is, at all, part of the puzzle)?

There is something in me that needs out. I am not an artist, but I feel the need to create. To express. To be so much more extant and in this place (life, that is, not the Grand Old Mothership of Swansea) - in terms of presence, not accomplishment. Not success - the word is starting to represent everything I want not to be; a sure sign that it's time to write my own definition and learn it by heart. By mind. By me.

Okay, so that's today's homework. Thank you ether, for listening and absorbing - I feel like we've been on a good six-mile strut together, you and I.

And, breathe my fellow thinking-living ones. Breathe and have a cup of something warm, kind, and thought-granting.

xx