In my blog, I have written a lot about myself as a child and as young woman. I told stories about my almost continuous daydreaming. I detailed my many trips around my town by bike, trips with my parents from sea to sea, and my own exploration of over 20 countries around the world on my own, and with my love. I have always been very thirsty for knowledge about the world around me close and far, including its people, cultures, beauties, and even uglier aspects. My daydreams have taken it further and placed me in shoes I never really wore, giving me alternative and often idealized perspectives.
My senses were particularly keen in my youth; sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and physical touch. I absorbed much of what I came across in those ways. I could “feel” and almost “taste” music, as well as hear it. I loved to dance, and to me, my movements spoke words I needn’t even utter through my mouth. Really I felt like a sponge absorbing everything around me. When those things hurt me, I fought them out; some I continue to rid myself of.
I’ve read numerous books of all sorts and huge amounts of information on the internet. I’ve listened to myriads of others speak. Some of this information inspired me greatly, others sometimes angered me. Some of what I heard answered questions, but some inspired even more. Actions resulted on occasions, inaction other times.
As much as I’ve absorbed throughout my life, something has always seemed missing. I felt separate from, and couldn’t (and still can’t) identify it. Not knowing what it is continues to eat at me. I remember as a teen listening to the band U2’s song “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For”. It would play in my brain again and again. I’d wonder if what I sought would actually ever be findable. I confess that that song rarely plays on my stereo or in my head anymore. There came a time when I grew particularly ill that I stopped exploring almost altogether. I figuratively, and sometimes even literally, just stayed in my bed. Actually, I’m in my bed right now as I write this.
I do, hopefully, have years ahead of me and new things to find and experience. I must also remind myself of the many things I have found that I cherish. Let me not have found “it”, but not fully recognize it. May any walls that keep me from finding that thing fall, or give me the strength to pull them down.