I am moving again.This move is not across time zones, only the Hills borough bridge - from Stratford to Charlottetown. I am, nevertheless, filled with that familiar mix of anxiety and excitement that always accompanies transition.
Transition.
I turned 30 last month. And while I won't deny that I entered my fourth decade with a smidgen of trepidation, a good dollop of indulgent self-criticism and far too many glasses of gwertz, in the end it was just another birthday. No more or less defining of who I am than any other day.
But I have been thinking a lot about change lately, about transition and transformation. Right now, at this very moment in time, my life seems to be in limbo. Nothing is ever certain, of that I am aware, but to be in such a state of flux that you feel utterly paralyzed is hard on the mind, the soul and the body. Case in point, over the past three weeks I have managed to pack on five pounds. I am not sure how, as I've not been overly gluttonous. I have thus concluded that the stress I can feel pulsing through my veins is literally weighing me down. It's weighing down my body and my spirit. I have reached a point where I am literally craving some certainty (or the closest thing to it), a routine, some mundane-ness. I find myself overly preoccupied with knowing what the future holds for me, worrying that the decisions I make now will have repercussions I cannot foresee.
This has been my story for the past eight years - I have been a vagabond, ceaselessly moving from place to place and job to job, regularly throwing myself into the unknown with hopes that I will find new truths about life, the world, myself. This vagabond life has served me well. I am stronger and happier for having taken the long way round.
But when I moved back to PEI in May it was because I knew I needed familiarity and there is nothing that compares to the sense of comfortable belonging that I feel when I am on the Island.
And yet, here I am, three months after my return home and I am still not settled. Stability eludes me. Perhaps it is not meant to be, perhaps I am meant to continue this vagabond life. Or maybe I just need to be patient, stop worrying, and let it be.