Running Away

“The day I ran away 
The wave and the ocean 

I was salt water the day I ran away. Something so tearful and surrendered I might as well have fallen directly from the sky. Like the lashes of the universe were dressed in thick cat eye mascara and thunder eyeshadow. The day I ran away, I realized how important it was to become the wave. To reach for the sun. To know that in all my adventuring, we are all always one. 

I realized how big I could be. That my misty fingertips could stay in the sky awhile. That the deepest roots of me, would always be a part of you. 

You who hold me. You who see me. You who for a lack of distinction, are me. I realized the day I ran away, was the day I came home. Because I have been fearing my bigness for far too long. 

I have shuttered and crashed in arms of those with ghostly grasps. Memories of humans that loved me in my becoming. In my perceived in completeness. I always feared that my wave would forsake the ocean. That if I moved the world wouldn’t shift to follow me. That I would run out of arms that felt like holding me. That running away was even possible with my own voice living in my own head. 

The day I ran away, tasted like sunburns. A concrete cooked to the earth. The day I ran away, I realized my worth. That it isn’t something built for economy. There is no need for supply and demand philosophy . Being abundant doesn’t make you worthless. Being beautiful isn’t something that happens in contrast. Contrast benefits artists - so I will leave my comparisons for my canvas. And teach myself that joy and capitalism aren’t synonymous. In the world of joy, every flower has its purpose. Every community has its vase. Every human, has fucking space. In the world of joy, we value every second, for death teaches us the art of change. We are in constant transition, we will never remain the same. So I am taking my time with it. Learning to ask myself “what I can gain from this.”

The day I ran away, I dressed up as an adventurer. To discover a land far more aware of what makes living precious. 

This place I ran to, looks a whole lot like here and now. It smells like Mother Earth and Father Sun and the unknowable power that pulsates between the cells in my body, and the humans on this earth and the stories within our minds. It felt like soft pollen on well warn forest paths. It felt like home without future or past. It was like breathing. Like dancing. Like making love. It was the slow moments. The ones that fill you up. 

The day I ran away, I learned that nothing lasts. And when my heart broke fully at this knowing, I felt I could truly laugh. That in all my seriousness, I thought I could save myself the end. But we are always transitioning, forever meeting and losing friends. Our parents pass, and we do too. The moments, they are valuable, without this notion of a never ending fuel. 

So I ran away. 

I ran away from the notion that I needed a cage to be safe in. That I needed the same arms to choose me everyday, to give my life meaning. I ran from the stories that keep my people stuck. I ran, until it was fun. 

And now it is play, the sweet surrender of play, that is setting me free. In reality, that is all I have ever done, even if I took it a bit too seriously…”

As a child I would cry myself to sleep on the thoughts of running away. Of becoming so big that, that room and those walls had no chance of holding me. That I would outgrow my very skin. That loneliness would be my only friend. I would wail and beg

- “What if I run away”

well, baby girl, I’ve collected some answers for you…

if you run away there will be adventure. Love will change its face - often. the concrete and the stars will keep you company. If you run away, you will find that you can never leave yourself behind. That your wholeness isn’t dependent on walls or names or places. It will be scary, heartbreaking, and the most enlivening choice you ever make.

Why are you running?

See, because the thought of running away used to tear me up inside. It was like swallowing shards of truth, the truth that my parents would die, that my family would change, that I would never get to stay the same for long. And I bled for this idea. The idea that I needed to run away.

Then there came a moment that I could run towards. Towards fireworks in my stomach instead of glass. Towards truths that brought laughter and rain to my eyes. It was a moment that I learned the difference between running away and running towards.

So, I am running away, sure - away from broken glass truths and unconsciousness. Away from the life that this world has shoved onto and dressed me in. I am running away buck naked from anything that doesn’t feel like freedom when I put in on my skin.

But what I am running from isn’t nearly as important as what I am running to.

See, because the thought of running to, lights me up inside. It smells like grass and sunlight at the end of a long day. Embracing skin that has soaked up the heat of a lifetime waiting simply waiting for me. It feels like honey at midnight, and a crisp star-studded conversations. It feels like home - even if it’s constantly changing.