Maybe you can remember your parents hollering at you to “SIT STILL!!” I sure can. As kids, we were in constant motion. Whirring about even if seated.
No time to waste, we got to move!
It took a massive amount of energy just to hold all the body parts in place. And if the body was mostly stationary, then our mouths were constantly running. And our minds.
. . . pause or gap in a sequence, series, or process, pause, break, interval, interruption, suspension, intermission, interlude, gap, lacuna, lull, respite, breathing space, time out, recess . . .
As he was pulled backward, I saw my chance. Even through my half-swollen eyes.
I fired off two right punches, as hard as I could, and they found their mark on his left jaw. The look on his face turned from anger to full-blown rage as I turned and bolted down the stairs . . .
What’s in your normal daily routine?
My day started out with my head under a water spigot at a campsite in southern Arizona.
If you were stuck with only one food item to eat for a week, what would you choose? And what would you not pick?
I think I was about six years old when one of my brothers and I decided to run away from home.
Was this foreshadowing?
I have two brothers, and the one closest in age to me had gotten into some spat with my mom. Dad, the Lieutenant Colonel, was at the Air Base working, and I’ve no doubt that it was my brother who had misbehaved. He wasn’t taking the motherly admonishment too well. And there is always that dreaded, “Wait until your father gets home” threat.
Dad was the enforcer.
I don’t remember where I heard this expression. Or perhaps I never did. It may have sprung into the recesses of my mind. From a dream. A whisper from the wind. An echo from the stars. But I use it sparingly. With depth of heart. For it holds several meanings to me.
“You’re always welcome at my campfire.”
One of the things I like about Word Press is that our posts can generate some great discussion. Unlike many other social media pages where, on occasion (ok, all too frequently) I see many hateful exchanges.
A couple of days ago a post of mine generated some great discussion on how governments and local communities attempt to shape social behavior. The idea behind this is to favor what is usually considered the betterment of the whole community or the country at large.
Of course, this begs the questions, “Who gets to decide what’s best for everybody?” And “Just because it’s best for everybody (if it really is), why should I be compelled to do it.”
It’s a balancing of interests.
A wonderful Mary Oliver quote.
Photo: Wandering the Southwest
I’ve been writing about that urge to roam. To travel freely. Unencumbered. To experience the world through the lens of constant motion.
My first post in this series introduced the terms “Dromomania” and “Drapetomania,” which placed this desire squarely in the medical model for disease. The word “disease” itself has been defined as: “a condition of the living animal or plant body, or of one of its parts, that impairs normal functioning and is typically manifested by distinguishing signs and symptoms” that is “not simply a direct result of physical injury.” A disease has also been said to be “a particular quality, habit, or disposition regarded as adversely affecting a person or group of people.”*
And there are four main types of disease: infectious, deficiency, hereditary, and physiological diseases. Diseases can be communicable or non-communicable, and when we have absolutely no idea what causes one, we call it “idiopathic.”
And let’s not forget mental or psychogenic diseases.
In fact, the suffix “mania,” in dromomania and drapetomania, arguably places the old terminology squarely in that category of mental illness.
So, is the compulsion to flee, to explore, to wander the world, a mental disorder? And what are those so-afflicted fleeing from?
Picking up where I left off yesterday . . .
We’ve all heard the stories of Cortez conquering the Aztecs and Pizzaro conquering the Incas, but we often only hear the stories of those who are regarded as conquerors. The victors. Even if their acts were entirely atrocious and inhumane.
History is distorted that way.
I often write about my travels and the things I experience while traveling. The adventure of it. 😊 Particularly getting back to Nature and hiking in the wilderness. Something I do whenever possible. And the urge to travel, or to continue traveling once on the road, is always at the surface.
Lingering, like a Tiger ready to pounce on its prey.
Frankly, I like that feeling. For it drives me to drive. Gives me reason and purpose. An impetus to greet Grandfather Sun each day.