Nomad

I grew up in northern Virginia, staying there the first two decades of my life until I was grown and able to leave it behind for California, where I've been for five years now, the first two of which I was content. The past three years I've often dreamed of even farther away places to live, in extreme seclusion. I love much of what the city offers, but many times it has me thinking of living in forests alone, or with a tribe of some sort. I want to feel what it's like to only worry about survival in the most primal form. Over a year ago I did extensive research on living conditions in the rainforests of Costa Rica, hoping to find a way to make the possible move agree with the more reasonable side of my brain. When it didn't, I did research on a more accepted form of banishment, called the Peace Corps. The problem there is, you can't choose your destination, which means I could end up on a cold mountain in Ukraine instead of a warm village in Africa. I like cold, but not frostbite cold. Then I thought about Costa Rica again. It still didn't work out.

Since then my preferred destination has been Wise, Virginia, a small town in the southwest part of the state where I spent summers with my Pappaw when I was young. It's no Costa Rica, and is even considered a dump by some, but it still strikes a nostalgic feeling inside me like no other place. I would never want to live there long term, but I think a year or so would do me good. Not to mention I've written a script about the place, which would give me a real reason to spend time there- to do rewrites. It's this time of year, December and January, that always has me thinking of the past year and the one to come, and when I contemplate the most drastic type of lifestyle changes (like a move to Costa Rica). This winter has been even worse for such day dreams, especially after my once a year trip to Wise over Christmas to visit family. Being there, with the locations for my script right in front of me, had me scheming schemes and dreaming big dreams. I wished it never ended, but it always does. Even if I stayed there for a few months, it would eventually end. The script would eventually be finished, and so would the fantasy.

So now that I'm back in Los Angeles, two thousand miles from Wise, I wonder which road to take. Sometimes I wish to be beaten. I want someone to put me on my death bed. Maybe then what's really important will pop into my head and I'll know- know what to do. I'm so confused right now it's pitiful. I don't know which step to take. I long for people, for a feeling, for love, for a fantasy. I want to feel like I did in Wise over Christmas. It's such a disappointment to know even if I stayed there the feeling wouldn't. It'd leave in a week, I'm sure. That's why my longing is unattainable, because no matter where I am or who I'm with, I will eventually long for something else. So what is life's lesson in this? Do I chase my ever changing longing or do I stay put, waiting out my waves of angst patiently, knowing clarity will come? What if clarity never comes? What if chasing those longings is all we have to look forward to? What if I'm supposed to chase it, use it up, then move on to my next new thing? Am I a nomad or a life long resident? Am I a runaway father or a stay at home mother? Am I using all I have to travel the world, or am I saving to buy a house? Do I live in fantasy or reality?