restless souls

stuck in the middle of traffic, i asked my colleague R* why she was in the social sector. When you're stuck in the middle of traffic, you'll ask anyone just about anything. its the god damn traffic.
Why are you in the social sector R*?
because, she said (and i'm paraphrasing here), i got sick of my old job. I'm a little restless that way.

a restless soul. like me.

Some people in this world are lucky. they were born in just the right place, at the right time, and they never struggle with themselves. they were, are, and always will be exactly suited to their life and place in this world.

then there are others. others like me. restless souls. wandering through here and there, never fitting anywhere, not even in the skin of their own existence. i remember being 13 and looking in the mirror. first time i asked my eyes to explain the meaning of their look. first time that iris brown turned to mystery and confusion.

and i wandered and wandered through the days and found nothing but confusion everywhere i looked. sometimes in that iris brown shining through the mirror...sometimes in the iris brown of others..or iris blue or iris green.

i gave up at one point. that misty haze of life would never clear, the sun would never shine. darkness was all i had and i should get comfortable with it. or so i thought....so i beleived.

until someone came along who looked right through the iris brown and saw me.
just as i am. no putting on a pedestal. no seeing a me that doesn't exist.

through the meandering path we wander together.

i am restless no more.