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Wanderlust: the profound feeling that within the soul, there exists a compass that constantly tugs at the very foundations of the being, pulling the body in whichever direction the winds happen to blow on that given day.
I first realized that this was a part of me during my teenage years...can anybody say Road Trip? Oddly enough, the colossal cross-country venture that was taken was not even my idea; I ended up being the fourth tag-a-long in a small silver car with three other girls. Well, two girls and one woman - the little Honda Civic was crammed with my best friend, her sister, their mother, and yours truly. I remember my heart pounding as we left our town in the early morning, and then the sinking disappointment creeping in as we drove nonstop through the the seemingly endless stretch from north Florida through Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana. Little did I know that the interstate in the southeastern United States rarely reveals any wonders besides spectacular views, an occasional road kill, and Waffle House signs at every exit. Texas became more promising - it was entertaining counting the Texan flags that scattered the towns, and seeing the sparkling city of Dallas from a distance at night seemed downright cosmic. We grazed the corner of New Mexico, and then finally reached our first destination (Colorado), after over thirty hours of driving. To be continued.
Wanderlust is not a conscious choice; it is in innate part of a being, but the choice to act upon it or to stomp it out is up to the person who carries it. It is an unpredictable phenomenon that can rise and fall like the tides on the shore. There are times when it seems to ebb away, and times when it comes crashing back full force.