When It's All Said and Done

I am definitely settled now. ...It’s quite disconcerting actually. I have no more foolhardy quests or ambitious endeavors to set upon. I have a job, a place to live, a comfortable mattress on which to sleep, a table at which to sit, everything I need. I feel like much of any materialistic pursuits at this point would be contrived constructs conceived out of a compulsion to attain something rather than the suiting of any real utilitarian purpose. That’s a trap I really don’t want to fall into. But worse is the trap I don’t know how to avoid. Comfort, complacency, routine. Coming out to Seattle, I went on an adventure. I woke some place new each morning, always had a distance to cover, a goal I had to meet if I wanted a home for the night, real, tangible obstacles to overcome daily, a simple sense of purpose. With each day, I was living out a story to be told, having the time of my life. And once I got here, I had to scramble for a place to live, search for a job, make connections, which then gave me a softer sort of adventure to follow on the heels of my larger one, the tying up of the final knots, the writing of an epilogue if you will. ...But now, that’s done. There’s no story here any more, just mundane, just routine, just...life. What nobody tells you, is that the hard parts of living aren’t the ones where you’re biking over mountains and through windstorms, it’s when you stop.