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Last night I had one of many text conversations with my mom about how restless I am with my life. “I miss NYC every day,” I told her. “The process of adjustment is much slower than I’d like it to be.”

“Give it time,” she urged me, “You hated New York almost the whole time you were there.” Wow, why are moms always right? It’s true, for about 9 months of my 12 month stint in New York City I hated it. I couldn’t wait to move to Philly and now that I’m in Philly all I want to do is move back to NYC– what the hell is up with that?

Truth is I’ve never done well with change. For being someone who is anti-tradition in a lot of ways I sure do like things to stay the same. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could just jump into a new adventure and feel at home right away?

I hate adjustment periods,Β hateΒ them but I know they are necessary for growth. I find life to be such a contradiction: I want to grow and be challenged but, when I am, I try to run back to where things were comfortable. It makes me want to pull my hair out (but then, of course, I’d want to go back to the days when I had hair…)!

Some days my soul is filled so full with wanderlust that I have no room for anything else. Not that the desire to explore and find new adventures is a bad thing, it just needs to be more in balance with the desire to be present in each and every place I find myself. Being present is just as beautiful as being a wanderer.

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