We write so many stories telling us to reconnect with nature, to return to some by-gone era of man where we were in tune with the world we live in, instead of polluting it, or stealing from it, or running from it.
We also write stories about what it takes to tame the inner beast, to go from the bachelor, brooding in a castle alone, to a prince, regal and resplendent, meek (I solely use meek as defined, and not in the pejorative connotation in tends to carry, I think based on the sound of the word when spoken).
The point is, we are never satisfied with the point we sit at, or under, or what have you.
We always want more. To reconnect with the spirit realm, the rivers and forests, and remove ourselves from “civilized” greed and squalor, or to civilize that beast inside of us in order to find the true depths of the spirit.
Who is to say where our human spirit lies, truly?
There is some theorizing I could do here, based on the stories and the themes we tend to focus on in them, and I might some day, but the point is that where you are is exactly where you are supposed to be right now. Our lives are character driven in more senses than plot driven, and we decide when to move forward. We are not Harold Cricks, but Trumans (insofar as it relates to our ability to shape our lives, not in that the world centers, or should center, along any individual point of gravity).
Values and perspectives you hold today are fluid. Circumstances remain, but what we do in them is up to us. The transitive moments may be uncomfortable, but the next mountain will come eventually, and we all had best prepare our tents and trekking poles.
Thanks for reading.