I am a shark. If I stop moving, I can’t breathe. It’s like a bad case of the fidgets, but on a much grander scale.
It’s that feeling you get when you are told to stop tapping your toes. You try, and as long as you keep your mind on being still, it’s doable, but it’s also forced. It feels empty, and the longer you try to hold it, the more awkward it feels. Eventually you get so antsy that you just need to move. At that point, you want to tap your foot, but shifting around or moving your arms will do. Anything that lets you keep moving.
Instead of fidgeting my foot, my life fidgets. My life needs to keep moving forward, or I drown. It’s nothing chaotic, and I’m not running away from anything. In fact, I rather feel that I am running towards something. Something new, exciting, challenging, and untapped.
Stillness is stagnation. There is too much to take in, given just one lifetime. How can anybody be complacent experiencing the exact same thing every day? I actually know why: complacency is easy. To be complacent, all you have to do is to do nothing. If nothing is what you’re already doing, then you don’t have to change a thing. Human beings work on momentum. The longer you sit still, the harder it is to get moving again. That is, until the fidgets return.
My fidgets are wind in the sails of the S.S. Misadventure. My fidgets untie the anchor rope from the dock, letting the current beckon me down the river. My fidgets see a place on a map that I haven’t been and tell me that I NEED to go there, if only to assuage my curiosity. Wanderlust feels natural to me. Staying within my comfort zone is uncomfortable.
Wanderlust burns deep within me. It is a part of who I am, and I want to take you with me.