Source: https://anasebrahem.wordpress.com/2013/10/08/the-edge-of-comfort/
It seems fitting to start a mental searhc spilling myself onto the page,
like ink, speeping and changing the canvas with words.

Where is my head at. I'm moving through feeling unsure constantly, on the edge of something, unsure what, unsure how, unsure when I will slip down into the side my life is taking me.
I watch my faith swirling around me. Whilst I will bring it along with myself, wherever I shall go, I wonder what form it will take in the next stage. I'm filled with disdain about how to approach this, for feeling that going to church is the only way to possibly continue. In the moments leading up to go, I am filled with one thought 'I don't want to'. And with thoughts like these rushing through my mind, I realise that searching becomes vital.

Why do I not wish to go?
Is it the people, the prospect, do I feel I am hiding from God who cannot be hidden from. Do I feel that I am shying away from things I think I should be doing in my life, when in fact perhaps it is the should that is causing the problems here. I can feel myself wondering, what will Church give me today, the praying in the privacy of my own room cannot provide? Sure there are the connections and friendships, but in these moments, I have none of these friendships. I do not wish to develop these friendships with those who seem to have walked my path so long ago that their memory of it is clouded, or who nurse children, or cling to the community as a lifeline.

I feel that it is something I have to do, and right now, I don't want to. I am conflicted between feeling that I have to force myself, and feeling that I shouldn't be forcing myself. I want somewhere that I am drawn not withdrawn. And I'm questionning what I feel I need. I know there are things afoot and yet I feel not ready to be a part of them. I'm praying, but perhaps half heartedly. I'm reading but perhaps not seeing or understanding. So what do you wish me to do?
Spending my morning on the sofa, not ready to plunge myself head-first into a church that I can barelya ttend because I am barely here, so I barely know people, so feel barely known, barely missed, barely understood, barely feeling comfortable, compeltely not feeling at home.

And all those will children unanimously tell me that I need to keep going. Because they are settled. They spend every weekend home, their life follows clear routine, with clubs, and church and self development. Where my life sits unsettled. Filled with travel, searching again for the comfort zone I've started to forget the look of, and the scent of home that I try to convince myself that I can smell here. But really, my eyes are turned away from my place here, and instead towards my homes elsewhere, those I care for, who seems to be so far away that I cannot seem to hear them.

And in amongst all of that I'm expected to settle here? To relax, to feel comforable somewhere, to not spend most weekends reaching towards somewhere else? And when I finally settle here, you what? Expect me to want to spend it somewhere uninspiring, unsettling, uncomfortable? I just don't know that I can do it. I don't know that I feel ok. I don't know that I can keep on like this. I don't know how to just be somewhere, without craving to be anywhere else.

So I'm searching. Searching for the switch that evetually clicks into place and I settle.