When the Northern Wind blows

 I once dreamed of living here. It looked so idyllic, so fresh, so clean, so healthy. I thought peace of mind and serenity in my soul would somehow naturally follow when I lived in a place like this. That picking oranges directly from the trees in my garden and making fresh juice out of them, would instill a direct download of a happy, peaceful me. That having November days filled with sunshine and a Caribbean-like sea in front of me whenever I wanted, would naturally connect me with the ultimate feeling of bliss.
I used to promote following your dreams. Working hard to get there, not lose sight of the goal, keep the spirits up. But somehow the journey seemed more exciting than the goal itself.. Now that I'm here, I still have that feeling inside. That I need to go somewhere. But since I'm supposed BE HERE NOW and live my dream here in this place, then there is no more goal to strive towards. I am, so to speak, at the top of my dream-mountain, looking around for happiness. But happiness is a whole different journey than living your dream. You don't automatically become happy just because you've accomplished a dream. That's news to me! Coz I'm still ME, feeling the same way that I used to feel.
Crazy restless.
Unable to be in the moment.
In desperate need to stay busy to avoid certain thoughts and feelings.
It never looked that way in my imagination of how it would be living my dream. I'd be completely happy, at peace. Wearing some Ibiza hippie clothing, picking lemons from the tree for the cake I was going to bake, smiling happily to some non-existent camera.
 I feel both inspired and tired when I read things like this online. Young, fresh 20-somethings who are following their dreams, discovering wisdom as they go. Who left their lives in search of what else is out there. And that search is so romantic, so exciting, so full of magic and mystery. 
Why did I lose it?
Well... it seems to always be over there for me. Never ever RIGHT HERE. 
And now that I do own more than the shirt on my back and the backpack, now that I do have a life on a paradise island, now that I have a life full of natural freedom, I am still thinking that it is going to be OVER THERE. 

Am I just a traveller at heart? A gipsy soul who only feels happy in movement?
I used to really romanticise Juliette Binoche's role in Chocolat. She moved around together with her daughter, from place to place. As she heard "the northern wind blow", she knew it was time to leave. And so she packed up, she left, and she started anew somewhere else. It used to be my private little joke to myself. After a few months or even a year in a place, I would feel that longing inside me. That gust of wind blowing through me, rustling all the leaves of the tree of my life, moving them and making me feel as if I can't sit still. 
I hear this northern wind quite a lot, stirring through my soul. I really struggle with it now. I don't welcome it anymore, as I am not in a position to act upon it. I can't just finish everything I've built up here, the life I live with my family, the life we have built with our son, and the one that will come in a few months. 
I struggle with thoughts and opinions I've heard from others throughout my life. On the one hand, I've been told that I'll never be happy anywhere, that I escape places, things, confrontation. On the other hand it just feels so natural for me to move to feel free and happy, and some people have celebrated that in me and with me. To have very little belongings and to just finish something, and leave, such a feeling of freedom. Starting something new is always exciting. It's the staying on that makes me unhappy. 
I cannot any longer see the beauty in a place where I have stayed for too long (according to my standards, which may not be very long). I cannot any longer feel happy. I don't feel inspired- quite the contrary, I feel dull and and nearly dead on the inside. 
As soon as I'm in a new place, my senses wake up, I feel alive, inspired. Excited about each new day. 

Maybe my real dream-life is to be in movement, and to not get weighed down by other peoples' musts of staying in one place to be happy. 
Not so realistic now that I have a little boy who seems to like his routine and his home. It's just a different time in life. A time to be somebody's mother. It's HIS childhood and HIS time now. 

If I'm going to be unhappy, it's actually not a bad place I am in to be so. The weather is warm, the feeling is free, the nature is amazing and I live a very healthy life. 

I do find relief in the thought that one day he'll be grown up and I'll be free to again let the northern wind whisper in my ears and tell me in which direction to go, so that I can once again feel that overwhelming freedom, crystal clear happiness and complete being of following that wind, to wherever it takes me. As long as it's away from HERE, I'll be happy to follow it. 


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