Recently a friend was telling me about how comfortable he was with normalcy. He liked the familiar, the usual, the things he already knew, and though I've heard this sentiment expressed by others before, for some reason it struck me this time as especially odd. 

        I struggle daily with living in the moment in which I am placed. I'm constantly dreaming about somewhere else sometime else with someone else. I travel quickly, meaning that I'm eager, when I'm out, to go from one place to the next, seeing one thing and then another. I don't linger long at museum exhibits, and I'm often the first one traverse the unfamiliar street. 

         For me the world is full of adventure, and time is constantly running out. I must see and be and accomplish as much as possible because otherwise, I fear, it will slip through my fingers and opportunity will be lost. 

         My family moved a lot when I was younger, and I loved every one of the moves I can remember. Certainly, towards the end of the moving process, I would feel a twinge of sentiment directed towards the place we were leaving behind, but always that was very quickly swallowed up by the excitement of the new, the different, the unusual. 

        The only time I can remember where I didn't feel this excitement over something different was over a church move in my late teens, but that is can of worms for another fishing trip. The point is, I am only beginning to realize that I have somewhat of an insatiable appetite for the new, obscure, unusual, eclectic, and different. 

 I eagerly looked forward to getting my applications in, and getting accepted into grad school. 

         Now, all I can think about is that I need my financial situation to change. Can I make more money really fast, or will I be forced to use my grandparent's inheritance for grad school rather than investing it as I'd hoped? Then there's actually getting there...when will the summer be over so I can go? Can I stay somewhere else rather than the student dorms? Once I get there I'll probably be hit with more things I want changed. I might get tired of a professor, feel like all I'm doing is writing papers, when can I do something different...etc.

        The list can go on, and while it's true that it's not good to settle for less than what God offers us, it's also true that each day and each circumstance has its own beauties and joys. The mundane holds its mysteries and pleasures too. It can be good to know and be known. 

        So I ask myself, have I gone too far? What will stay my restless feet? Am I to be like the girl in Hans Christian Anderson's somewhat brutal fairy tale who was compelled to dance forever? Will I never be content to settle and take joy in routine and familiarity? Must live my life either as an unknown wanderer or, a discontent familiar? 

       The song "The Road's Salvation" by one of my favorite contemporary bluegrass bands, The Lonely Heartstrings, speaks a bit to my dilemma. The subject of the song keeps traveling from one place to another, torn by his love for his sweetheart and his obsession with moving on, in the chorus he sings to her: