I was born under a mutable sign, meaning that I am comfortable with motion, that I can “go with the flow,” that I am mercurial, adaptable, changeable. I know it’s true, but I long for the will to tolerate stillness. I wish I could just stay where I am and be content with it. Going, moving elsewhere is an exhausting thought. I dread it every time, even when it’s just for an overnight. Because it always disturbs the little nest, the cocoon I’ve built myself over the course of hours, days, weeks. Every time I leave, it’s like I’ve never lived anywhere but in the limbo between here and there. It upsets equilibrium, it tires me out, it makes me feel alive. It’s always going to be who I am. If it’s not, something is wrong. Because it’s in the motion that I find my inner stillness. But sometimes I think I prefer the inner turmoil and chaos of just staying still in one place. It never lasts long. Our natures will have their way, whether we fight or not.