Contradictory Desires

Astrology, numerology, palm reading, tarot and the like are all pleasant enough diversions. In the past, I've written of my propensity to offer my hand to palmists in order to divine some sort of direction for my coming days (because honestly, my future seems quite shrouded in mystery--though I know "I am the master of my fate; I am the captain* of my soul" (thanks William Ernest Henley).)

So once, I simply did a google search as to what sort of characteristics someone born on the Gregorian calendar's July 13th might possess, and received the following opening sentences:

You are full of contradictions. You have deep domestic interests, but at the same time, you are really restless and you have a decided longing for travel and change.

I doubt these contradictory desires are reserved solely for the cadre of personages born on the thirteenth day of July, but they definitely resonated

Right now, I live in a foam dome [more on that, perhaps, in a later post] in the Colorado Rockies. My room is more of a giant bowl with walls that do not  reach the rounded ceiling of the dome, and actually barely reach my knee.

It is always a trip bringing people to the dome and watching them marvel at its unique design (as I did the first time.) But it is sort of a hub for the young, very transient population that passes through Summit County. Nine different living spaces are rented and I have already seen a fair amount of transition in my roughly six weeks here.

This morning however, I longed for my own little set-up with fresh flowers on an eclectic little kitchen table and only dishes from my cooking endeavors in the sink and a nice bedspread maybe with a real headboard. But all of this requires an investment in staying in one place. I've left beds and comforters and kitchen appliances many places because the freedom of being able to move was more important than being set-up.

I really deviate between wanting to be vagabondish forever and wanting establishing a hearth. I want to be able to take off at a moment's notice, but I also want a garden. I want to go places where no one has any preconceived notions of who I am, but I also want to be around people who've known me forever and understand my past.

*I used to think the line was "I am the conqueror of my soul." I've also really liked that interpretation. I little more violent, I suppose, than captain, but definitely empowers the I. But, is the I really separate from the soul? Ahhh, the deep questions of poetry interpretation.