I'm sitting here in a very comfortable chair. Where? I'm sitting in front of my very own home the we purchased last year. The crickets are chorusing with the frogs and the Whippoorwills and the sun has sunk to rest on the horizon and spill forth crimson, blush, and gold. The coming night is still and I am relaxed sipping my favorite drink - iced coffee. And yet, I wonder. I wonder at this feeling inside of me; this ever constant nibbling at the edges of my contentment.
You see, I am living the American Dream with my family: financially secure, happy and safe children, two cars we own, and a house we do not rent but instead we call ours! Isn't that the American Dream? Isn't that what so many come seeking or grow up here seeking? Is this not the epoch of living what so many chase? Then why does my heart still cry out to chase? I see others who have what we have and yet they cannot stop from ever running, ever stumbling, ever barreling headlong for more!
I wonder as I sit here safe and secure in my world if perhaps the obtaining of this Dream is not just a gateway to restlessness. Shouldn't we, I, be content to have reached at so early an age what others spend their entire lives fighting for? But I am not! I find that the Dream has been reached and my lust for more has not been satisfied. It would seem to be do with many, many others as well. We are immersed into a fast paced world from birth and we are washed over by the ideology of more ever more!! So much so that when what we reach what we are told is the Dream we suddenly find ourselves feeling stagnant and discontent. After all, there is more out there we do not yet have! There is more out there that others are doing and we are not! We must- we MUST!!!
Perhaps though, that is just me. Perhaps the Dream is not mine. I have loved the idea of a home and family and security and yet I have thirsted with an unquenchable thirst for just a hint of insecurity, just a dash of the unknown, a tidbit of danger and mountains of foreign and exotic places! My feet climb from bed in the morning and I walk through this American Dream while my mind tells my feet and soul to run as fast as possible! "Hurry!" Whispers my mind. "Flee!" Cries my soul. "Do not let yourself be too content," echoes my heart. For content I am and yet, content I am not. I have reached the Dream and upon entering its doors I found the gateway to restlessness.
I think my brother might have been right when he once observed to me, "You were simply born with the nature of a Gypsy." If that is my nature than who am I to accept anything less?
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