As I sit on my couch on Sunday evening, the one I wanted to own and sit on so badly on a Sunday night when I was living in the r.v., I have this feeling of nostalgia wash over me. I am texting a couple of friends right now, updating each other as I don't see them as much since Steven and I moved to Central California. One is opening up her own salon suite. The other is moving 12 hours away from where she grew up for a college, and yet another I know is deciding between two schools in Northern California.
Don't get me wrong, I am so happy here and so happy to be where I am at in my career, but sometimes my heart longs for that comforting, less stressful albeit less satisfying in the long run, fun, partying, worry-free kind of life I used to live in Southern California.
Life is changing. It's changing for me, for mostly all of my friends. And I am so glad that life is progressing, I really am. Especially grateful for where life has taken me thus far. I have a great job, great friends, awesome boyfriend + his family, I am going on a super exciting trip to Thailand and Indonesia for two months in twenty days.
Any yet this fear... this fear about life and where it's going and how different it might be from where I have been. It seeps under the doors and through the cracks in the windows on many of my Sunday nights, and claims me with its anxious thoughts and persistent slideshows that if gifts my mind of what "could happen," mostly negative situations of course, as nervous minds like to do.
I know I can think differently, and I do consciously work to keep my mind out of the sledge of negativity, but I don't think these thoughts about changes and anxiousness before my first big trip across the world are necessarily a bad thing. I think they are very normal and while I should give myself a little bit of time to question my existence and process what I have done and what I want in the future is good, I should also give myself a break from thinking and just let it be.
