Stability? Stability for me has come to mean a boring life devoid of those pastimes, loves, and joys of my manic life. Stability has meant even being dragged from the very earth so linked to my being to a land similarly devoid of heart, of spirit, of my very connection to what I considered divine.

From soaking up the spirit of all that surrounds me atop a mountain, from hiking through the thick raincoast forests, from kayaking amongst the orca, from snowshoeing a trail, I was dragged kicking and screaming to the land of flat endless, cold, and barren prairie - where not a single tree that stands was planted by human hands.

Stability means having to mourn the past with the realization that what once brought joy can never be experienced again.

But I suppose stabiity is neccesary - despite the sheer volume of anger and resentment for it. I DO recognize I could not maintain the previous status quo. I think this makes the mourning of that life that much more difficult. The anger though directed at those who dragged me into this current life of stability is not quelled.

No, I do not like being 'stable'. The hardest part about it of all? Knowing that this is the best thing for me.