What’s in your normal daily routine?
My day started out with my head under a water spigot at a campsite in southern Arizona.
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’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?
Last night, I tried posting this pic from the WP app on my phone. I had a bit of trouble but I think it did finally come through and I hope you’ve liked it.
Took this one off the back porch with a 400mm zoom lens and cropped it to enlarge it more.
The phone app doesn’t allow you to post a feature pic, and now that I’m back on the lap top, I’m making a few edits. I’ve also tried WP’s new editor with this one. Can’t say that I like it.
Have a wonderful Sunday!
Time is slipping away, and as we approach the end of another year it’s time for people to engage in reflection, projection, and resolution.
Some are already referring to this as being the end of a decade. And they’re glad for it, calling it one big dumpster fire.
To others, it’s the end of another year of tumultuous political machinations. Or perhaps, a role call of all those who died, famous and infamous, loved and unloved.
Others find victimization, trauma, sadness, and are truly heartbroken.
And to others still, it has been just another amalgamation of meaningless seconds ticking away on the clock of the Universe.
I recently finished reading, “Backwards: Returning to Our Source for Answers,” by Nanci Danison. It’s a fascinating read as the author describes what people have come to recognize as a near-death experience, but she refers to her adventure into the unknown as a “beyond-death experience.” Or that she experienced “temporary death,” which implies a longer time out of the corporal self and an ultimate return – with vivid memories of what happened.
I took part of the day yesterday to be a music day. I don’t always take time out to listen to music, but I believe it’s one of the most magical creations that flows through people.
And it always takes me away to a place where I’m happy.
It’s similar to writing, in a way, because there are a limited number of musical notes, but an unlimited number of combinations of those notes to produce, well, to produce something magnificent.
Only so many words, but we writers craft them in so many ways.
And from my various pics you know that I’m rather fond of sunsets and sunrises too. And sometimes, you just happen to be at the right place at the right time to catch a glorious one.
So here’s a combination of a sunset with a song. Hope you enjoy it. And while it’s playing, I’ll go back to that creative corner in my mind and ponder the next writing . . .
Photo: Somewhere in the Southwest that I’m missing today 🙂
My blogging friend, LA, recently wrote a couple of posts about one of the traditions surrounding the marriage contract. And yes, while the piece of paper a couple signs says “marriage license” it’s actually a contract with a lot of implied terms and conditions.
The tradition LA had focused on was that of the men asking parental permission to marry their daughter. This question provoked some good discussion on the possible drawbacks of maintaining such a tradition in modern times.
At the same time this discussion was transpiring, I came across an article suggesting that married couples needed an additional contract, a “relationship contract,” especially if they were a dual-career couple.
I have to admit, I stole this quote from Victoria Ray. She included in one of her posts recently, but I absolutely loved the words. And I played and played on the photo editor to try to get them to stand out on the background pic, so here is the quote in case you’re having a hard time reading it:
“Because when I read, I don’t really read… I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.” Bohumil Hrabal
The lilies, by the way, were growing wild along the trail – an astonishing lush forest in an arid, high desert climate. Amazing !
I guess I was a little stubborn about my choice in pictures for this post as I could have picked another to contrast the text better, but I loved the symbolism here – beautiful lush flowers, lush forest, in the high desert – not what one expects to find. But there are so many wonderful surprises in this life. Not being predictable makes life so much more interesting, wouldn’t you say?
Do you prefer yellow or red 🙂
To say it was a slow burn would be inaccurate. It was just plain a bonfire. Sparks to high flying flames. Embers floating upward on newly created thermals, warm and glowing, a continual burn. That was this past summer as I traveled about taking in new sights. Hiking in Nature.
That collective place, that I call the “Real World,” where I feel at home.
There was a crescendo, however. You might say. A peak. Not a turning point, and it wasn’t like things diminished in anyway afterwards, but it was a stand out moment. The day I did the Green Lakes hike.
You see I had been building toward this adventure for a while. Slowing increasing my hiking distances. Acclimating to the higher altitudes. And while the trail markers seemed to indicate a shorter distance, they were wrong. I knew it by what maps revealed and planned accordingly.
This hike, while longer, reminded me of one I did in Montana. To Avalanche Lake. That hike was shorter in distance, but it similarly ended in a spectacular view. A total sense-flooding awe. A take-your-breath-away moment.
This new mission built from the Douglas Fir forest, to the many waterfalls, to the rainbow of wildflowers, to the lakes and surrounding mountains.
A sort of reach out and touch God journey.