Catch and Release
I've been feeling restless lately for too many reasons. All the life changes I decided to throw into a finite number of days suddenly seem to have infinite consequences that aren't as easy to push to the side. In the midst of one of the most exciting and rewarding seasons of my life, I find some of those joys drowned out by the aching of being too far from the people I love. Life without people to share it with is like dancing without any music. The energy just doesn't catch in the same way. Following your dreams is hard, someone said to me recently. I don't regret any of the choices 2014 has presented me with thus far, but I've started to pinpoint exactly why moving forward is often coupled by extreme resistance. At the end of the day, change itself isn't frightening because change brings new adventures and new stories. It's the letting go that change demands that causes me to pause in my steps.
I love adventure, I love new places, and I can't imagine living in one city my entire life. Honestly, I can't imagine where I would be if I had never moved to Nashville, and I'm sure I will say that about Colorado someday. I have no problem embracing new stories, but I have a big problem letting go of the old ones. When I make a friend, when I fall in love, when I claim a passion, I claim it for a lifetime. I'm a very good promise keeper, perhaps to a fault, and I'm always surprised when someone else's unspoken contract isn't as binding as mine.
I equate life's progress to a collection of things. Every place I go, I find myself collecting people and memories and experiences that I use to decorate my life. But, as time goes on, it's only natural to clean house to make room for the things that really matter - the lasting friendships, the important lessons learned, the beliefs that shaped you. My problem is that I want a bigger storage closet. I don't want to admit that I don't have the space to hold on to everything. Yet, I have to trust where I'm being led and realize that, just like the airlines, life won't let me carry a suitcase that exceeds fifty pounds.
The catch and release of growing up is the hardest part, but it's the most beautiful part, too. The people that decorate the walls of my new apartment are literally and figuratively the people that I know will continue to have a place in my life. And the thing is, I have a lot of empty wall space left. Even though I can't imagine what will go there, I have to trust that it's the perfect spot for a memory just waiting to be made.