Sometimes running away will bring you back to the beginning

Relearning these skills was like going back home, growing up on a homestead before it became cool, as my uncle likes to remind me. When I was young, the only thing I wanted to do was get a job in the city since the city was new and adventurous to me.

Now, as I have circumnavigated the globe, the only thing I crave and seek is returning to what I know, which is ironic that running as far away as possible from what I wanted to escape so severely brought me back full circle.

Life is amazing sometimes. It also reignited that part of my life, the role of my life, that I only saw tragedy when I used to look back. When you come out of a situation that is so pure and good and turns so evil, it is hard to turn around and say, yea, that is what I want out of my life.

You have a deep fear of what if my life turns out the same way, a tragic ending. Yet now I understand I am not my parents, and my path is not theirs. The way they chose to live their life was not dangerous; it was in harmony with nature around them, and it was returning to the way I fully believe we as humans are meant to live.

Without the buzz that constantly surrounds my brain, the dopamine hit that I anxiously await from my phone. Or any of the multitude of technology surrounding me at all moments of the day.

When I was in college and realized I had so much resentment for my parents, I wanted nothing to do with my old life. I thought if I could get through college, get a job and keep my head down. I might get to the end, and then what. I had no idea.

I was raised in a time when you put your head down and did what was expected of you, me. So I did. It led me to be someone I was not, conforming to the ways of society, going with the grain. No wonder I turned to alcohol, my favorite distraction, to forget who I was. The only problem was when I drank; I cried, I mean full-on ugly cry.

The only thing I cried about was wanting to go back to the way it was before. I cried because I felt ripped out of my home, away from my animals, and because my family that took us thought life should continue as normal.

It never would again for me until I remembered who I was-am. I had a pity party for myself for years, with many good friends who mostly went by the name of a work-a-holic, -alcoholic, or exercise-a-holic. Anything that would keep me on track and not standing out, just doing what I had to do.

It wasn’t until years later I realized that I was doing exactly what my parents did not do and what they did not want for me; they raised me better, and I was rebelling from them, even though they were watching from above.

I was afraid I was too much like them; now, in hindsight, I am 100% a clone of both of them. It is why my living a life of what I thought society wanted was killing me. It wasn’t until I threw caution to the wind and said, F this, why am I trying to do something that is not me? It is not in my blood, Mi Sangre, to be compliant.

It is to be rebellious, run with the wind, and be far away from the mainstream society that I wanted to be a part of for so long, yet the closer in my grasp it was, the darker into a hole I went. I knew that if I did not live the life I wanted, I would end up six feet under; my gut, my soul, and the powers told me to run.

I didn’t care if everyone thought I was running; I was. Except I was not running from anything; I was running to something, to adventure, to my true self. It was about figuring out who I was without the noise around me of everyone telling me who I was, what to do, and how to live.

I needed to get to the point of finally having nothing to have something. Except that something was unchangeable, which most will never understand, and then some understand. I often wonder why I chose this past year to settle, but it was time.

My heart told me to stop, heal, but never return to going with the grain, as your heart runs too wild. I was born out of passion and love from two people, and the passion and love for the land run through my veins to continue where they left off.

It is a feeling I have had my entire life but unable to understand the conflicting emotions inside me until recently. Until the world had gone mad, and I remembered the teaching I received before I was 10, it took me four years of learning the world, myself, survival, and self-sufficiency to realize I had come full circle back to where it all began.

It is like a new, a second breath. I am no longer afraid if I end up like my parents, as I know that I would rather live true to myself than fake my way through life, as I once did. I have recently struggled with sharing my life as I often feel it is in pieces on the floor.

I often wonder if sharing too much is helping the pieces come together or move further apart. I am usually at war with myself, as it often comes across on the pages.

At this point, I realize that being in pieces on the floor is better than being a ghost walking through life. I would rather be honest and bleeding on paper than try to keep it together and build the wall back around me.