Procrastinating, gestating, or just living?

Oddly, as I’ve just posted on my personal facebook status, I am “enjoying just staying home, working, reading, sleeping, watching tv, living a quiet life.”

If you’ve been reading my blog for the past few years, this may surprise you. It surprises me. I had the travel bug so bad last year, I ran off to Europe for four months, and dragged my somewhat unwilling husband around with me. (Ain’t he just the best?) I didn’t think I would want to come home at all, but here I am, having immensely enjoyed the past four months at home at least as much as the previous four months spent in England and Lithuania, with side trips to Geneva, Brittany, Rome, Scotland, and Amsterdam (I think that’s everywhere)…. I guess, as they say, I got it out of my system.

Not that I never want to travel again. I do! And right now I am wishing I could go to Vilnius next week to meet friends and have coffee on Pilies gatve, go to the annual Kaziuko mugÄ— (Kaziukas Craft Fair), and visit my favorite yarn shop. At the same time, I am looking forward to spending today doing work for my day job, sitting on the couch in my living room, working on my filing with my mom, and having dinner at home with Mom and Dom. I’m just feeling cozy. And I’m also looking forward to spending the summer at home, going out on the boat, making jam and spaghetti sauce with fresh produce from our garden, and complaining that Colorado summers are too darn hot.

Every time I go to Europe something happens to me and I come home changed. The first few times I spent summers abroad, my alter-ego EuroDonna appeared. She was plaguing me of the past few years, fighting with AmeriDonna, making me uncomfortable, trying to find a way to exist even when I am home. This summer my two halves merged and I feel completely comfortable and content at home.

Being content is wonderful, but sometimes it makes me think I am being too complacent. I have a book to finish, I have a business to run, I have a day job, I have plans, goals, dreams! Over the course of my life, I’ve noticed that I go through phases of content and discontent. I have long transition periods where I feel very anxious and confused and my interests seem to change, and after a year or so, I settle down again into a decade of contentment. I think that my be what’s just happened to me, except maybe for the first time, I’m not exactly sure where I’ve landed.

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