Western Promises.

I haven't felt this way in a long time. The tugging at heartstrings, the extra space in my chest, like a vacuum ready to be filled by something great. Something powerful. I am more alert, expectant even. My eyes are clear. I am ready for it. Ready for something more.

This itch, the instinctive need to migrate, to find adventure tends to flow every 4 months or so. I have become adept and hiding the signs, to those around me and my self. Sometimes it shows up in a need to move locations, literally to migrate to some where else. Often it culminates in the end of a relationship, to the detriment of both parties initially but often this gut feeling is indicative that I needed something more, something else. I used to feel it so deeply I never stayed in the same place, same job, same relationship for, what seemed like seconds, longer than that third of a year. 

To me it can be described in two words. Drive. West.

When asked what 'fills me up', what saturates me in the essence of what ever it is that keeps me going? I can always find assurance that I will find it West. It looks like mountain peaks, protective and unruly. It looks like pacific ocean, deep and full of the mysteries of the past. It looks like the forests tall and wise and a sign of a slower moving grace. There are times when the hunt for these things is a hunger, a running to. More often it is a running away, it sure is easy to gain speed out here on the prairies. Last night, as I drove home from the mall at an ungodly hour not too far from midnight, it became increasingly difficult to resist the pull. The deep seeded trust that there is something more. The urge to take Highway 1 West, instead of Bowness Rd East. I am excited. I feel change in the wind, in every breath.