“Run my dear, from anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings…” -Hafiz
There is a theory floating around out there that I am absolutely positive you have heard in one way or another: people who travel are running from something. They have a story, a history, skeletons in their closet that they are trying to escape, or maybe they’re just running away from the “real-world”. Whatever that means, I’ve never understood the phrase as it all seems pretty real to me. I have had this conversation many times with many different people with varying positions on the matter. I can’t speak for anyone that’s not me…
But I’m not running; I am sprinting (100-meter dash style) from a narrow mindset and monotony; from guilt trips and control. Away from anything that holds me captive, even the things I’ve placed on myself. Mistakes that I’ve made, regrets that I have, all of the time-outs that I’ve taken.
I’m running towards the life that I have wanted for as long as I can remember. A life that I can shake up when it needs to be shaken. Towards a better understanding of myself and others. Towards a respect for something greater than the bottom line. I could go on, but I’ll leave you here.
Where my nomads at? Let’s take a poll.
I am running away vs. I am running towards. Are both too cliché? Feel free to elaborate below.