The search continues...

I remember playing in the sandbox - digging, just digging.  I would take the sand in front of me and scoop it to my left, all the while waiting for something to show itself within the dirt.  I never knew what I was looking for, but I would dig and dig and dig believing that if I dug long enough, that thing - whatever it was - would appear.  I realize that I never minded going home empty-handed, that back then the search was enough for me...the possibility was enough for me. 

Now the sandbox is so much bigger, and the process of enjoying the dig is so much harder.  Now there is this importance to find something - the right job, the right partner, the right home, the right anything.  Now going home empty-handed leaves an empty feeling, and i can't help but wonder when that happened.  When the simple act of exploration lost its luster.

I want that back.

I want to go back to the days when the journey felt just as satisfying (if not more) than the destination. When looking felt rejuvenating, and not exhausting.  

I've spent the last few days wandering, exploring, experiencing and it's felt so good.  It felt so good to look at new things, and talk to new people, and to sit in that moment of possibility.  I saw an old friend, I had a horrible date followed by an amazing random encounter, I walked the city in the frigid snow, I stood in awe at masterpieces, I saw beautiful movement, I made a new friend... lovely. It was lovely, but then I woke up this morning expecting it to mean something, to equate to something, to manifest into something, and these amazing moments felt somehow negated because I didn't wake up with some tangible thing I could hold on to.

I woke up still looking.

So now as I sit pensively staring at my computer screen, I have to make the decision to continue searching. To keep digging away, hopeful at what I might uncover, and happy that I have the freedom to look.

So the search continues... and I'm okay with that.