I’m in love with places I’ve never been to, and people I’ve never met.
Wanderlust has always existed in my bones, it comes and goes like the waves, though it’s been hitting me more often than not lately. An ever growing bucket-list of places to go, an ache to just get away- somewhere, anywhere. I was talking to friend today, one of those rare people I’m not afraid to share a piece of myself with, and I realized… maybe I’m scared. Is there a part of me that’s scared to be who I want to be, a part that’s scared to leave, a part that’s scared to live? If you ever asked me, I would tell you without a doubt, I know who I am. I know who I am and that has never changed, and yet the edges continue to blur and morph with society’s expectations and my family’s expectations and my expectations.
We are ultimately a product of our environment, aren’t we? I would like to think of individuals as entire constellations, and yet we are all trapped on the very same lonesome star, the same cycles and systems that keep us in orbit.
Would I burn up in this quest to turn into a shooting star? To live outside the universe, the cycles and systems that keep us in orbit. To burn as bright as I possibly can, while fading into the endless midnight skies. How is it possible to be, and not to be, all at the same time? I think I might know how
just go a little further
Maybe I’d burn brighter than I ever imagined, or maybe I’d fall off the map in this aimless pursuit. Have I ever mentioned, I suck at maps and grids and directions?
Maybe it’s time to find solace in the fact that we are a product of our environment, and yet, we could be so much more than that. I don’t want to be like them, I will never be like them. I don’t want to be a part of this system, a part of this society, a part of everyone around me and the same old ordinary. I am learning to say, some things are simply not for me, learning to say this is who I am and I don’t belong here. And I’m okay with that, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I think of every person I’ve had the privilege of crossing paths with. New friends who have inspired me to live a little more fearlessly in the pursuit of happiness and be myself, old friends who have been a big part of my story, people who have come and go, people who have stayed. The friend who has taught me how far empathy and kindness can go, the teacher who has taught me how you can be authentic, emotional and still successful, the boy who has taught me how to live and love and let go in a random hurricane, the old friends who have taught me how much it hurt to lose myself and everyone around me, the therapist who has taught me how to open up for the first time, the grandparents who have taught me that compassion is boundless and love is unconditional, the ones struggling the most who have taught me what strength and beauty can really mean.
I could go on, for a long time. You see, sometimes people come into your life in the most unexpected of ways, and sometimes people leave just as abruptly. Sometimes they barely leave a mark, sometimes they leave a note in your story forever. Sometimes a scar, sometimes a beautiful reminder- sometimes both. If you’re lucky enough, sometimes they stay a little while longer. I don’t think I would ever really forget. Still, I look around me and wonder at how temporary everyone, everything, is.
I try not to let it hurt too much.
Just as I am very much myself, I am a product of my environment, shaped and touched by everyone I’ve had the privilege of crossing paths with. To me, home isn’t a place, home will always be people. I don’t belong anywhere, but my heart will always belong to those I love and the universe. I would never want to leave, yet I once again find myself yearning for flight. How is it possible to be, and not to be, all at the same time?
Do I need to get away, or do I want to run away?
I have always been a paradox, and collision of a million different things. All I can hope is, I’ll construct a life I love someday- chase happiness and live however I want to. I want to tell this little heart to keep dreaming, keep wanderlust-ing. Nothing is ever too far way, don’t let the muggles (or expectations) ever kill that childlike wonder. It shouldn’t hurt this much, not in an ideal world. One day I’ll be brave enough and crazy enough to do the things I’ve always wanted to do. One day I’ll be okay again, I’ll look into the night sky and feel alive again. One day I’ll no longer have to fade in and out of existence, because I know it’s okay to be. whoever I am, to just be.
Don’t float away, not just yet. Stay here with the ones you love, the ones who stay.
sometimes I think, if I’m not careful, I’d run so far away inside nobody would ever find me again. maybe this is why infps are the crazy ones. the ones who lose themselves if they’re not careful. the ones who love differently and see the world differently. the artists and dreamers and idealists and writers. vincent van gogh. johnny depp. tim burton. hellen keller. edgar allan poe. jk rowling. hans christian andersen. tolkien. I remember how amazed I was when I found out that most of my favorite artists/writers/people.. even fictional characters, were actually all infps. but then again, it makes so much sense. they, too, have helped me find myself- but that’s a post for another time.
There is so much potential for madness, and so much potential for beauty. Perhaps, to see the world the way we do, you need a little touch of crazy. Who’s to say what’s wrong and what’s right? Who’s to say what is and what isn’t? Perhaps, to see the stars, you need to know what true darkness is like. I’ve lost myself too many times, but I’ve found myself again- though not always, and not quite so. Maybe there too, is beauty in the brokenness, directions in the endless constellation maps. that little voice that always whispers, don’t give up on life, don’t stop believing, you’ll find your way someday.
Tonight, I’m thankful for the people who have left in a brick in the path and the people who are walking this path with me. I’m not floating away, not just yet. I’m looking for myself too.