I’ll sleep on mountains. I’ll sleep enveloped in the vastness of Big Sky. I will be lonely. I will be whole. And I think it has nothing to do with running away from myself-- I think it has everything to do with running into myself. Finding peace within my own head, not minding residing there 100% of the time, even when there is more desirable real estate offered up.
Everyone is so worried about security-- which I find interesting; we need so little to live; we are young, able bodied and able minded. If there is nothing for us out west, then there must just be nothing there at all.
And we spend all of this time-- all of this time saying tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will begin, but today I must pay my rent, and pay my groceries, and pay my way, and pave my way-- for tomorrow. And we all know the saying, yada yada, tomorrow never comes. But tomorrow does come. Tomorrow is yesterday’s today, and then today’s yesterday. And before we know it, tomorrow has come.
And I am not arguing against self-reliance, self-sufficiency, comfort, or responsibility. I am simply trying to make a case for freedom. For a change in perspective. For a diplomatic compromise between freedom and security. To argue that they are at odds when they do not need to be.
We think in extremes-- in Mercedes Benz or beggars on the streets. In high rise buildings or miles of uncharted wilderness. In success, or failure. When we know full well that there are people walking around driving civics, and suburbs on the outskirts of towns-- and we know that there are attainable dreams, and that sometimes halfway there is just far enough. We stumble upon our intended lives while seeking out our dreams. We flounder in never choosing the lightly wooded path, and sticking to the highways and byways that choke with the traffic of the world that is asleep, or by skipping off into the hundred mile wilderness, on a hope and a prayer, and a granola bar. We think in extremes.
Choose the lightly wooded path.
As for my soul? I’m just making the difficult decisions-- the same as you. I must chose between two things that mean something to me, and I must cut one out for awhile in order to move forward with either. I have to lighten my cart-- unload some bits of me that I love and adore-- including living breathing extensions of myself-- for a chance to finally let out this breath I’ve been holding in for the past ten years. It is all just a means to an end.
The phrase "Running Away" implies that one is not running toward anything, when everything, truly, is ahead of us.