It occurred to me the other day that frequent relocation is a lot like hot air ballooning. You start to get the heat going to fill your balloon. You feel the basket begin to lift as it jolts upwards. You may even start to soar a little, silently over the tips of tree tops, eyes wide at the unfamiliar and dazzling view of new sights. You might start to like what you see and want to stay a while…When suddenly you feel the air start cool. You float down again, hopefully gently, settling onto a new spot on the globe.
Lately, I can almost hear the sputtering of the gas in the burner flame and am imagining another flight of sorts. Take offs and landings, imagined or real, are not my favorite part of the journey. Realizing that another descent onto an unknown landing place may be on the not so distant horizon for us is a little disconcerting. It’s strange how knowing that change is coming makes me start to turn inward, alternately rejecting social invitations or stacking them precariously close, as if a full calendar can stave off worries about a pending change.
There’s a quiet excitement that comes from floating somewhere new. Even so, sometimes I find myself daydreaming about how nice it would be to stay grounded. But we’ll begin again if need be, because who knows what adventure awaits?