I am such a conflicted soul. At my very core, I honestly do not know whether I am a country girl or a city girl, a hick or an urban dweller.
I crave the silence, the serenity, purity and openness of the country. I love the mountains, a clear, cold stream, a night sky brilliant with millions of tiny stars. I love animals of all sorts, wild and domestic. I love the legend, the lore and the lifestyle of the American cowboy, the ranchers, the farmers. And I have, for a time, lived my life on a remote ranch in a woodland area. I cherish every serene moment in the countryside, whether I am backpacking, hiking, horseback riding or even just driving a quiet, winding road.
Likewise, I lust for the urban thrill of a city like New York, Los Angeles or Chicago. A large city with style, glitz and grit. I love the architecture, the culture, the crowds, that fashion matters and the brilliant city lights at night, millions of windows all becoming stars themselves amidst the dark, urban sky. I absorb every sight, every sound, every experience into the depths of my being, thrilled and excited by the urgency at which everyday life is lived. I love that existence in an urban environment is based on both cooperation and rebellion; urban life would be complete chaos without the cooperation of millions of individuals, simultaneously. Yet, nearly every individual in the big city is rebelling against being ordinary and blending in. They stand out in fashion or in lifestyle, with millions on individuals wearing the same fashion, living the same lifestyle, simultaneously, rebelliously. I have, again, for a time, lived in the heart of a city, among the many.
I love that in the country, you can do something different and amazing each and every day. You are only limited by your imagination and your fear. You can hike, climb, hunt, fish, ride, explore. There are always new places to see, a new path, a new trail, a new road, another hill, lake, stream, mountain, canyon or cave. I love the dirt, I love the dazzle. I love that it takes guts to live in the country. Possibilities are endless.
I love that in the city, you can do something different and amazing each and every day. You, again, are only limited by your imagination and your fear. You can walk, ride, explore; there are always undiscovered neighborhoods, museums, restaurants, bars, shops, parks, buildings with unique architecture. I love the grit, I love the glitter. I love that it takes guts to live in a big city. Possibilities are endless.
Conflicted though I may be, I am definitely appreciative of every experience I have, no matter the setting. My problem lies in where I should actually live? The country, the city, or somewhere in between? Or should I continue my somewhat nomadic life of travel, for work, and frequent moves, for home? There is a part of me, a very large part of me, that yearns to settle down, now, to establish roots, in a new place, perhaps, or in a very familiar place. Again, I am undecided. But, if roots are established, how do I satisfy the craving for what I end up shunning; the city or the country, one for the other?
These are questions I don’t expect answers to, as I have been unable to arrive at a decision, one over the other, from the earliest I can remember. In fact, I will likely argue against the suggestion by anyone to choose one over the other, for any reason or number of reasons provided. I have always been conflicted, at juxtaposition, torn, and I assume I always will be. I just wonder whether I am unique in my indecisiveness, whether anyone out there suffers as I do, whether anyone out there, wiser than I, has arrived at a solution.