The Pull

There is a pull, sometimes, deep within us. It calls, heavy, shrouded in mist and mystery. It is most noticeable when we are happy — when our lives glide smoothly along comfortable tracks. Then, in moments of gratitude and love (yes, real, both), we feel that something is missing (or needed). The call is clear — its message is not. It may be a desire for adventure, for newness, for its own sake — for danger and suffering even (we do so romanticise these). If our life is a story, we might want it to surprise, to entertain, to move. But in truth, we are the only reader of our story, for all others shape their own stories of us, tributaries to the river of their own life.

And so, if the pull is for others’ views of us, we should quiet it, leave it. But sometimes, if it is truly ours, we should heed it. But many have sought a more inspiring chapter, to find that they must come along for the ride. You do not leave yourself behind. Yes, a new place or people can change you, but more stays than goes of who you are. Be wary of this. Just as often, our lives can alter without our stir. Time and space come to us, wrap us in tendrils of potential, nudge us in a direction we would not otherwise have taken. At other times the world swirls around us, pressing us tightly to what we are — the world changes and we do not. And this can be the biggest change of all, when we meet the chaos of the world with peace and courage. Everything can change when we refuse to. Planets flying out their orbits as the sun remains fixed. Or this is a fiction, conceived to give hope and comfort. In any case it can be a story, which is really all there is.

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