I used to move frequently. Not just the once every 10 years move related to a job transfer that many of us do and not a military move where the family is stationed for three years. Moving was a normal activity for me and sometimes I feel guilty about moving my daughter around so much. She was always the "new kid" in school. Adaptation was something she learned quickly.
You would think at this stage of my life, that staying in one place would be enviable on my part. Not so. I don't know if it's boredom but sameness is never an aspiration I have ascribed too but a thing I have tried to escape as often as possible.
I have family that have always been content to live where they were born. They take that two week vacation every year and usually vacation in the same place every year. There is no curiosity that needs to be satisfied about this country they have lived in all their lives. They don't have to see a place for themselves to assure them that there really is such a place. It's on the map and that's all they need to know. Not so for me. I had to see it for myself. I wasn't going to take anybody's word for California being there. I had to see it and I did along with most of the rest of these United States. Gypsy blood must run through my veins. I'll blame it on that since my heritage or at least 1/2 of it originates from Italy.
The same town, the same house and the same people year after year means comfort to some. Why wasn't it something I yearned for? Adventure. Maybe it was the sense of adventure I've craved most of my life. The newness of what is just over the hill, around the curve and at the next place along with the experiences gained.
Some of those experiences were positive, some were not and some were down right scary. As I revisit some of the places I've lived during this trip, a flood of memories rush around me. I'm retracing the path I followed over 25 years ago through towns I've lived in or moved through in another life. Farmington, New Mexico, Moab, Utah and Monticello, Utah were places that were part of my life then. It seems like such a long time ago and a different person that traveled those places and I suppose it is a much wiser and older person now that looks back on this time. It's not a time I wish to recapture. It's the past just as this trip will some day be just the past. It's not the same and that's all that matters.