Journey thoughts

Sitting in my van, hits of the 70's playing loud, the kids bundled in their seats giggling excitedly and arguing already with 5 hours still on the sat nav. All of our belongings shoved into a mish mash of bags for life because we are not suit case people. Looking out at the passing scenery something stirs in me, a familiar feeling. Excitement yes, who doesn't love a holiday? but it's something more. Something deep inside of me, that little part of me that's always somewhere else, searching for adventure while i'm washing up or folding laundry. A firm part of my personality that's always been there, ever since i was a child sparking daydreams of waterfalls and far flung sunsets. "You're never satisfied" my mum would say "can't you just be happy where you are?" "it's your gypsy blood" my dad would say, an inherited constant case of itchy feet from great great grandparents with their wooden caravans and travelling fair. This feeling I have always battled with, covering it up, swallowing it down, suffocating it with stability and routine. When I am in a stressed situation the feeling bubbles up giving me an almost desperate need to run. I don't, I stay, i cry and bury it down again. Since i have been grieving in the last year this little part of me has grown, burning bigger and brighter and getting difficult to ignore. Its time to give into it and let it take over. Long drives, huge sandy beaches, salty sea breezes, roaring waterfalls, blinding sunsets, enormous mountains and breathtaking views that make me feel tiny. It's time now to see them all, let them heal my heart and fill my gypsy soul.