That last post brings to mind the old bluegrass song…

So, if I who am so attached to and nested in my personal space, am still willing (nay, compelled) to take off anyway, the question is, “Why?” And I am not alone.  There are others, and we usually know one another when we meet.

What drives me, so comfortable in my space, to keep leaving it in favor of wandering?  Maybe I and others like me are descendants of those who carried our species out of Africa and across continents.  Not to be self-aggrandizing, but maybe we were the restless hunters who left our tribes at the Bering Land Bridge and one day found ourselves in Tierra del Fuego; the dreamers that opened the American Midwest, who crossed the Sierra Nevada to find the sea.

My guess is, we just don’t share our species’ penchant for settling.  But are we a genetic abnormality or the necessary mutation that pushes a species to expand?  Whatever it is, I’m caught somewhere in the middle, vascillating between permanence and a siren’s call to wander. Either way, it can be a bitch…both for me and for those who love me.

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