I was meditating this morning (I do that everyday now) and this thought popped into my head:
"The moment we become comfortable is the moment we become complacent."
It's easy to stay where you are, where you're comfortable, where it's familiar. Being comfortable isn't a bad thing necessarily, but using familiarity as a crutch most certainly is. As I sit surrounded by my stuff, both material and emotional, I wonder if I'm actually happy or if I'm just comfortable.
The answer is both. I am happy but I am also leaning on the familiar.
As of late I've been daydreaming of selling my belongings and walking off. I want to detach from it all and float away, smiling like an idiot too concerned with wandering, with adventure, to stay stuck in the gravity of "stuff."
It amazes me that I can be the most indecisive person but ultimately I know what I want, what makes my heart sing, what lights the fire.
I want to live in a van down by the river.
Well, a bus, really.