Lagos and Life

I LOVE Portugal.  I really can't think of a better way to begin this post.  The people are incredibly friendly, the landscape is lush and even in the rain this place has a touch of magic to it. I realize that sounds cliche, but seriously. It's incredibly easy to picture the sirens of maritime lore and the faries from long ago tales.  Maybe it's the rain. Everything always seems more vivid and alive in the rain.  But it really is beautiful here.

We arrived in the coastal town of Lagos amid a downpour.  This town has a storied reputation- in the summer time I imagine it closely resembles Cancun. There are cheap hostels, cheap food, beautiful beaches and a surf shops selling familiar Roxy, Vans, and O'Neill gear on many a' corner.  I've heard whispers even comparing it to Costa Rica, although never having been there, Iunfortunatley  can't confirm.  It's a little surf town for sure, though. We based our stay at the Rising Cock hostel (not even kidding, everything in this country is rooster themed), and were greeted by "Moma," who made us crepes for breakfast and assured us that we had finally arrived home. Maybe it was the impression Moma made, but the people here are so warm and hospitable.

I went for a solo walk yesterday morning along the beach, and found a lovely little secluded cove.  It's not often you're left alone somewhere beautiful without responsibility or other priorities pulling at your sleeve.  Sitting alone, attempting to meditate but constantly getting too distracted by the sounds of the waves and seagulls, it donned on me how much I love the feeling of being somewhere new.  I've known this.  After a year or two in one place I always get ansy. My contentment goes out the window and I start looking at everyone else's grass, wondering if it's greener.  It rarely is. But I move along anyways. I reach for change anyways, and it's something I've learned to accept about myself. Contentment has been allusive.  It sounds sad, I know. But it's not. I realized that maybe it's not lack of contentment, or lack of happiness, or an insatiable wanderlust that keeps me from feeling okay all the time. I think I've been confusing lack of contentment with something else. 

If I've learned one thing through these 6 weeks I've been away, it's how much I love and care about the people in my life. I miss you all so damn much.  And I am really, truly content with the life I lead. I think the thing is that I have a youthful soul that craves discovery, excitement, novelty.  I don't think I'm an old soul, not at all.  I think I've been terrified of the words "settling down" for a long time, but I realize now that doesn't necessarily mean settling- not on life, not on love, not on work, not on anything. Making a life with someone and having roots isn't a bad thing, it's a blessing. I am so thrilled I get to come back to the man I love, and get to move in with him and our dogs. I am so thrilled I have a job that allows me to do me, and chase the life I want to build. And I am so thrilled I have a family and a best friend who have been so solid and so supportive throughout my meltdowns and constant changes in direction.  I

expect to never satiate my wanderlust, and I hope I never lose my yearning for change.  But I also recognize and appreciate the value in roots and in home.  It's not a lack of contentment I've felt, it's the inability to reconcile curiosity and wanderlust with wanting to build a life and have stability. I've finaly realized they don't have to be mutually exclusive, but can foster one another and make for the most beautiful life.