Movement

I have noticed a theme in my life. Movement. It both distresses, and comforts me. Growing up, I moved frequently. I have met and left many people over time. It seems as if that early perpetual motion has developed a sense in me that things in life are not alright, if I am not moving forward in some way. This has gone largely unnoticed in my life, until the very recent years. I have had a series of goals toward which to strive. Now, I have finished school and have a career. Therefore, I often find myself both contented and dissatisfied with my station in life. You will say that it is impossible to be content, if you are dissatisfied. Likewise, impossible to be dissatisfied if content. Yet perhaps, for some, this duplicity is a concept that is easy to understand.
I have discovered that I derive great comfort from driving the open road. When I was young, I used to be afraid to drive too far from home, that I may get lost. Those of you that knew me back then, would know that was a justified fear. For years now, I have found comfort in becoming lost. I love to drive until I no longer know where I am, or how to get back home. Getting lost carries with it the promise of adventure. Driving east, while the sun sets behind me, tells me I am moving forward. I can appreciate the scenery of a pond/lake near a beautiful mountain, but few things in life compare to what moving water seems to do to my soul. When I am most weary I find the sight of a swift river most comforting. Even better when that river rushes forward to fall. I love to stand in it, rooted in the river. Bracing myself against its push. How I sometimes long to be the water itself. I could just let go without fear of being dashed against a rock. I could tumble headlong over a cliff and keep on moving. I believe when we encounter true beauty, we long to not only be near it, but become caught up within it. I stand in the riverbed, because it is the best way to be as close to the river...for as long as possible. But, I digress.
Yet, one cannot live their life moving on--the moment we feel our life is stuck, and only surrounded by motion. We must live in the tension between stagnation and movement. We risk our purpose, if we move before it is time or chose not to move when it is. My purpose in that river is to fish. Should I get carried away by the current or not move further up or down stream when necessary, I risk my purpose. Currently in my life, I must dig in my heels. I must take care to not let go and be swept down stream like I so desire. It would be so easy to just get carried away. Certainly, a lot easier than catching a fish.