Without knowing it, we reach and grab towards something.

We wander until we find what we think we’re looking for.

When we do stumble upon something that amuses us, we stop and accumulate what we believe we need. Then, when it’s no longer of use to us, we move on.

Which isn’t necessarily a bad thing—we learn, we grow from one thing to the next.

Like salmon swimming upstream. Like elk stomping into Yellowstone park. Like monarchs from South to North.

We all have needs and a place to search for them.

But during our journey, we hear a whistling wind every so often.

It makes the smoothest, quietest breath into your ear.

It whispers beautiful notes of uncertainty, indecision, and doubt into your mind.

This is only a temporary moment; it quickly passes you like seconds. But it lingers.

It lingers in your fingertips, a sense of hesitation fills your intellect to question your actions.

It lingers in your ears, aversive tremors remind you of your uneasiness.

It lingers in your thoughts when you’re caught off guard, the dismal notion of maybe there’s something more than just things.

Maybe there’s a place to be content.

To stay and be content.

More often then not, these thoughts are brushed aside. Discarded. But not lost.

They still linger.

Still wandering the desolate part of your consciousness.

Still reminding you of its presence.

It’s normal to ignore this notion.

It’s okay to be fearful of this new concept.

It takes weeks.

It takes months.

It takes years.

It’s normal for it to take time.

You’ll eventually confront the thought.

But, even understanding the thought takes time.

Give it time.

Follow it like a compass.

Follow it like a disciple.

It might bring you to paths you’d never consider embarking on.

It might bring you somewhere beautiful.

You will question your decision but never lose faith.

You will find it in the end.