Uncertainty has never sparked fear in me. I ride the waves of chaos happily, letting the splash of salt sting my lips as I slice through the barrels. I smile and hold my breath when I get caught in the shore break.
I never bail.
But all yin has a yang, and lately I can’t stop thinking about the idea of stability. I haven’t spent much time in stability’s space. We haven’t sipped tea together on the porch, swapping pieces of our broken hearts and pondering what the universe has planned for us. Instead I’ve spent my life running from her. Flowing in and out of spaces. Collecting connections attached to memories with people I fall in love with over conversation. Writing it all down in a big battered notebook before packing up the few things I own and finding a new place to call home.
But it must feel good, right? The persistence of it all. The safety of a routine that puts you in a position to know what tomorrow is most likely going to look like. A trade that consistently puts money in your pocket, not ever having to feel the nauseating descent after an adrenaline spike because rent is due and, well, you don’t have it. The love of a partner you can grow with. Someone who challenges you and holds hands with the parts of you that you don’t find pretty. Someone who wakes up beside you and whispers, “What’s next?” instead of closing a door that will never open again.
Practicality has never been a strong suit of mine, yet it’s one of the most cherished things I admire in another being. I might like to know how it feels, to have a constant in my life. But what does it look like? Sound like? Feel like? And most importantly, would it make me happy?
I was in Texas recently, laughing with friends and dancing through bars where love is just love. It felt like freedom. I had dinner with strangers where we talked in length about our different journeys. I sat with a smile gently across my face as someone who didn’t even know my name told me I was a nomad.
“You aren’t meant for one place baby, and that’s okay.”
And maybe they’re right. I don’t know, and I think that’s what makes life so exciting. My heart tells me when it’s time to move, to create, to love. So maybe that’s my constant? Listening to the conscious being the universe has sculpted me to be. Doing what feels right, even when it isn’t comfortable. Loving the instability of it all.
I’ll come up for air, shaking the sand from my hair as I inhale the sea breeze. I don’t know what’s next. But I know I’ll get back on my board, and I’ll paddle out again.