All ye seekers, gather round
Long, long ago, in a land far far away (Metairie), my first husband told me that I was a seeker. He did not mean this in a kind way; no, he meant that I was looking for something, was restless, not content. Three husbands later, I kept hearing the same refrain.
I’ve been told to stop searching, to stop turning over stones, to leave well enough alone and yet, try as I might, I can’t. Call me curious. I am learning to accept that there are forces other than me that are creating my destiny – I do believe that – but I also am infinitely curious as to what they have in mind for me. And for others.
I spent the weekend at the lake discussing my desire to tackle one of the biggest issues I know – racism. Why at almost 54 years old am I being an idealist (again). I spent today discussing how to know when to push and when to pull from the universe. I’m curious about these matters. I don’t have answers nor do I believe I will wake up tomorrow having them.
But I do believe I’m indeed a seeker and my three husbands weren’t wrong about me in that regard – but it’s not from some deep rooted unhappiness, no, I’m a relatively happy seeker – my journey is into self-actualization, a trip inside that is measured by what I’m doing on the outside.
However, this time around the bend, I’m seeking others like myself who are traveling the same way.