The sun greets me and yet I refuse to meet it. Instead, I sit inside pensive and mildly sullen, inexplicably so on this perfect fall day.

Six months has passed since the Big Move of 2012 and I question whether I can attest to the claim that it takes just this long to feel settled in a new place. My restlessness serves as evidence that six months is no time at all (even when it feels like an eternity) and that, for some of us, these seems no solid way to assess this period of settlement, this effort to find the calm after the storm.

Some days feel idyllic. I ride to work on my trusty steed (Percy Peugot!), eyes happily taking in the great city that surrounds me.  I sigh, grateful for all that I have here, as little as that may be. I have work that is more pleasant than it is painful, a loving, loyal partner, and a small but superb network of friends who are happy to adventure with me in this still-so-new-and-exciting place. I have a home to hermit away in and I have my yoga mat, which seems gladly willing to support my weight six days a week.

And. Still. There is this: I feel lost. Often. Lost in this great world even as I try to stay grounded. Afloat in a sea of hopes, dreams, and intentions that I try to navigate intelligently and with an open heart. I am not alone in this strange, unsettled notion and I know this, yet this truth does not always bring me comfort. So much as I try to just sit and be present, taking in all that is around me at any given moment, I can’t help but wonder how the actions of each day fit into the bigger picture. I struggle to see how I will propel myself forward, toward what I imagine I’ll find more meaningful, more sustainable.

I sit with these abstract thoughts, some days weighed down by them, other times flitting around without a care, reaching out to grasp on to the notion that what is simply is and what will be will be. That no moment in the future will be truer than this one, in which I sit, belly full of comfort food, wishing not to go to work, wishing not to be at home, in this state of possibly laughable angst, trying hard to be open to ecstasy, wondering what will come my way today. And the next day. And so on.