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Rated: 18+ · Essay · Personal · #831888
What does one do when the winds begin to blow?
The Winds of Change

For the past few weeks, the winds of change have been blowing through my soul. Sweet, unfamiliar music calls out to me, enchanting me. I long for something. I feel incomplete. I wish to dance with the rhythm and chase the wild wind.

Although I have lived in Oklahoma for over seven years, I don't feel this is where I belong. There is a strong pull to other places. I believe one has to belong to a place--feel a part of it--to truly be at peace. I also believe I found that place last summer in New Mexico.

I visited a small village at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains by the name of Cimarron. The serenity I experienced there was nothing I've experienced before, or since. In losing myself in the beauty and tranquility of the mountains, I found a part of myself. Sometimes, just sometimes, I can close my eyes and almost capture the essence of peace I felt there.

So what is holding me back? Years of mental conditioning from my mother. She wants me here, under her thumb, choking on her apron strings. She wants me to find a "nice local man" and live my life out here. I can't do it, dear God, I can't. It would be the death knell of my spirit.

All of my family and friends, save for a bit of family in Colorado, are either here or a little over an hour down I-35 in Texas. These are people I love dearly and such a move would be the first time in my life that I would be so far from them. That thought alone terrifies me.

Yet the winds beckon.

I feel I am the rope in a tug-of-war over MY life and how I wish to live it. The winds call, yet the apron strings bind me. One moment I am determined, the next, my confidence wanes. How and when did I cede so much control to her?

I am stagnating here. My heart yearns to taste love, my spirit wishes to soar! Why then, is it so damn hard to follow my dreams?

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