Feeling like a child for a bit

Reading, visiting my parents and remembering what it feels like to be child are an intoxicating combination. It is when I am away from home I am free to allow myself to dream and think unrealistic thoughts. When I am at home I have to be semi-sensible, an adult, a parent, a wife, a pastor. But with my parents I can be myself, mostly, and I like it. We have had such a gorgeous couple of days. It has been sunny and beautiful. Being outside, walking in the forest, seeing trees and open fields and sky and rippling water has made me remember how much I love being in the outdoors. How much I love being near to living, breathing, changing things! Not that roads and buildings don’t change but not in an organic way. I am struggling because I love the city. I love so many things about it. I love the vibrancy. The buzz, the people, the noise. The music, the smell of curry cooking. I believe in our church. I believe in it and I love it. I love it in a deep and real way. I love what it stands for and how we love each other. I love how we are allowed to think and feel and be real. I love working with my colleagues and living alongside different people. I love so many things about my community, my church, my work.

But I also have this yearning for space, for open spaces and green things. For seas and rocks and sand. For times of quiet. For moments of stillness. For a break from the frenetic, never quiet always rushing floodlit nights and brash days. I don’t think that I want a suburban life. I think that might suffocate me at the moment. But I think that I might need to fill up my lungs a bit more often. To see bigger horizons than the maisonette opposite. To see the sun rise and set unhindered by bricks and windows. I yearn. I yearn. I yearn. My heart longs for discovery, for a wildness, an uncaptured freedom to roam, walk, wander, get lost. What does that look like for where I am now, in this place and at this time?