soft

i was pacing back and forth out front of the laundromat today, the wind had picked up and the billowing dark clouds carried in sure signs of winter's approach. i could feel myself shiver and clench my teeth a little.. damn, i've gotten soft i thought. it's been a good few years since i was 'homeless' or spent any good amount of time outside on purpose. i felt weak in that moment thinking, i'm not sure i'd be able to handle it again.

but then again.. back in those days the thought of being a domesticated creature racked me. i could have never seen myself pursuing a 'career' of any sort, or having the desire to settle, be contained by four walls, own anything or marry.. my how i've changed.

or have i?

every once in a while i'm overtaken by anxiety.. i think to myself, what in the hell have i gotten myself into? i rent a place, i work full time, i have this stuff and did those things that i now have to pay for.. i'm locked in. stuck.. imprisoned by the very lifestyle i swore against long ago..

or am i?

nah. i'm not stuck. if i really wanted out bad enough, i'd have left already. it's not all that bad. in this moment i am content sitting at my laptop with some candles going and a bowl of pomegranate seeds to snack on. i have bills to pay and a job to wake up early for tomorrow and a hubby that lights up my world with joy.

the experiences in my past have definitely changed the way i live out my life as a housed person, maybe for the better. i'm not the biggest 'minimalist' i've ever met, but i habitually live with fewer things than most people in my general societal filing. can't afford much more than what i've got so i suppose it's a good thing that i'm happy to have a litte as opposed to a lot.

but back to the softness..

sometimes my mind wanders back and wonders what would happen if i found myself suddenly in that situation again, if i would have the energy and resourcefulness i'd need to be a happy streetkid. firstly, i'm not a kid anymore, and a lot of my old resources no longer exist. especially my favourite hiding spots.. city improvements and rural development have killed them off almost completely. i'd have to go back to wandering with my rucksack, and hit the highway for another place to be.

but that's no longer me. maybe a little part that shines through every once in a while, i keep it fed with weekend excursions and vacations as often as i can to a faraway land. maybe it's not that i've gotten soft but other parts of me are hardened.. the callouses that once covered my feet from beating pavement have migrated to my hands from turning earth. i'd rather build a home than find one, and plant my food than dive a dumpster for it or get in line.

today, that is.