It's funny what moving can do to a person. I have personally gone through a range of emotions with the move to our new home - everything from absolute glee to be in a location we've wanted to be in for so long, to fear of being trapped permanently in a certain area and not having the freedom to go where I want to go without notice. I've never been a person who wanted a stable location for living, and while I do understand for some people that is an ultimate goal in life, for me, it turns on feelings of a fear of being trapped. Call it the free spirit in me, or perhaps it has to do with some childhood trauma (though I have no idea what it would be), I just don't like the idea of living somewhere forever. Forever is a long time, and how do I really know what I will want down the line?
The last bit of unpacking has been a set of boxes full of books. We weren't prepared to unpack them because we didn't have a book shelf that was an appropriate size to fit all of them - until a few days ago. After painting the bookshelf yesterday, today I started unpacking the books and fitting them in their space on the shelves. As I was going through the books, I found a diary I had completed when I was 12 years old. It was so funny to go through this book. It was one of those pre-filled out books that I likely purchased at a book fair, but the answers to some of the questions and fill-in-the-blank statements cracked me up.
One of my favorites was finding this particular page:
After discovering that page, I came across another that made me realize that indeed many things do not change as we age.
My favorite page to come across was one that I think many of us can agree with...