Have you ever realized how we move into our emotions, regardless of how cramped and uncomfortable a space it may be? We pack everything that holds value – our wooden cross-flinging it on our back dragging it to our new found residence.

And this is where we live.

I’m sure when people call me detached that it isn’t meant to be positive. There is much peace to be found in being emotionally homeless. To feel free to feel and move and feel and move – much like breathing. To hold no ownership, one way or another. Allowing love, light and happiness right along with hate, darkness and fear. Not feeling obligated to forgive or understand. Not run from the painstaking heights that build the pressure between your ears or lows that leave a bitter after taste behind your teeth.

I travel.

It’s amazing the places you will see when you no longer worry about where you will lay your head – your heart. When you remove the anxiety out of your stomach – the things you will begin to hunger for. To believe in nothing and finding reason in everything.

Peace is roaming. For the ever fleeing. The not so permanent.