Happy Mental Meanderings

For decades, I have tried to wander through my day without rigid plans. It puts me in a good mood and, lo, following the day’s path as it unwinds is not irresponsible. My responsibilities get met. And then some.

I’ve pursued this wandering on and off, as I am able.

A DNA test points toward my having nomad blood.

In her book, The Hero Within: Six Archetypes We Live By, Carol S. Pearson says the wanderer archetype is looked down upon, and yet it is vital to self-realization. (I am paraphrasing because I no longer have my full library, so I might be misrepresenting it. In any case:)

Tolkien wrote, “Not all those who wander are lost.”

A recent development allows me to claim my wanderings in new ways. Here’s how:

The Italian city I was planning on living in is probably not viable. I am making a list of other cities that I want to live in. There’s no time to research any cities in depth before I move in December … should everything work out for me to still move in December. … I suspect that what I consider less research might be what most people consider too much. In any case, assuming I can move in December or shortly thereafter, I just move. I … just … move. Regardless of the amount of research. That is new freedom. That freedom feels incredible. That freedom feels natural to me. I am a nomad, a wanderer. I’m claiming that more completely now.

I suspect that most people equate permanency with safety. While I was thinking about not having time to research places as much as is my wont, the idea of impermanence hit me, as joyously welcoming as a lighthouse beacon to someone drifting at sea. I now assume impermanence in Italy or wherever else I land. If too many residents of a place wish me harm me, so what, I’ll leave. I don’t need a lot of friends. I will get the ones I need. I got stuck In Meadville, but I’m not stuck anymore. Impermanence is freedom. I’m a nomad.

My example about moving if I am disliked might imply that impermanence beckons because it allows me escape. However, it’s so much more than that. Impermanence in and of itself seems second nature to me and offers an abundance of blessings only found when I wander.

Impermanence feels natural and normal. I’m a nomad, a wanderer. I’m finally claiming that completely. I can breathe more fully now. I can live more fully … even grieve more fully until the sorrow is spent. In all ways, I am more fully alive, present, and powerful.

For me, impermanence is a path that leads to new opportunities every day—chances to create abundance, experience joy, learn wonderful crafts, and know all other blessings.

Affirmation: I trust what feels natural and normal. It is a gift from the Fairy Gods. I respect my inclinations, drive, and impulses. These are gifts from Fairy Gods. In all ways, I am fully alive, present, and powerful. The Gods help me choose fluidity over fearful rigidity. My nomad path brings new opportunities every day, helping me strive for all blessings. So mote it be!

Note: My mental meandering is not comprised of non-sequiturs, exceptions aside. There is a logical rather than random sequence. I notice connections between ideas or events that some people do not see. I point the connections out, perhaps indirectly by providing an experiential process whereby the reader can discover them firsthand. Sometimes, when I move from one topic to another, I might wonder if I’m off on a tangent. But if I keep going, I usually find the underpinning logic: my subconscious made vital connections, and mental meanderings bring the connections to my conscious mind.