to run

Maybe I've never been running from anything. Maybe that question is a question that the domesticated ask the wild.
  It could be that I have always been expressing the latent human aptness to journey, to voyage, to wander, to ramble, to NOMAD.
   The question I'm always wanting to ask is "why aren't you moving?" "why are you always staying in the same place?" "how can you be so still?" 
   I, seemingly paradoxically, am desperately in love with and connected to and attached to place. Places. While I am always leaving them. Often, I love the places even more than those people who stay put.
    But, isn't this just part of being human? Am I not a species meant to connect deeply and become intimately aware of place and environment and yet also meant to move, adapt and connect to new environments?
  What if there hasn't ever been anything wrong with me at all? What if only that question was wrong....."what are you running from?"
    I have been born to a family and a culture that has felt foreign to me and I have been trying to re-create a natural, wild, world around me after it has long disappeared. It has looked bizarre and felt like chaos...because I have no idea what I'm doing. And why would I know? But the not knowing and the strangeness itself cannot be absolute righteous indicators of a wrongness.
  I am a Malamute, carrying remnants of wild lupine genetics in a world of Labrador Retrievers.
  Of course it looks like I'm running.


"The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn from the crow" ....William Blake.

 I'm saying it.  I'm only part domesticated.