A Million and One Reasons I Need to Get Out of Dodge

My mind is racing.

I need a shower, a walk, an artists date, time with a friend, a break from the computer.

I need to de-clutter, go through stuff, edit and type blog, learn a new language, play piano, practice Spanish, read Hebrew, and get out of dodge.

That’s a lot.

Oh, I also need to share my YouTube videos, respond to Candace, reschedule her, refund her, reprocess her payment, stretch, get sun, get outside and get out of dodge.

I need to eat, cook, take supplements, look at my to-do list, take out the trash, put on music, see friends, fill the pepper grinder, buy butter and potatoes and pastured eggs, put tags on my YouTube videos, plan my move, email/text back several people, and leave town, head for the ocean, head for the forest, eat wild flowers, miners lettuce, mallow, radish, dandelion, violet flowers and…get out of dodge.

I need to dance, learn a new instrument, leave this country for awhile, throw away 20% of my stuff, give away 20%, pack up the rest efficiently, organize a suitcase full of what I’ll need to live for 5 days without my car and board a plane to Portland and sometimes it feels like I’m doing it all alone so I need to eat chocolate, drink wine, run somewhere, lie down, get out of dodge.

I bought henna to dye my hair over a month ago, but didn’t use it, and now I don’t know if I will; I don’t have the time and I’m beautiful even with white hair, so I’ll just pack it in the car with everything else and get out of dodge.

I need to meditate and stretch and buy things on Amazon and plan my next workshop and wash my hair, detangle it, and listen to the sound of silence, which never happens where I live so I’d better GET OUT of DODGE.

I need to refrain from getting into facebook conversations and scrolling too much and reading too much even, though I love learning and I’m so curious-it will have to wait until I get out of dodge, because I’m here in dodge, a city I can’t earth myself in, a city I can’t earth anyone else in, a city I’m heading outta-STAT!

I have this fantasy of living near the land again, of breathing rural air, of quiet mornings and evenings, days, even weeks without hearing sirens, areas without cars, and the sound of traffic, my booty on the earth, my back up against a tree.

Ohhhhh…world, I miss you.

Oh city people-good riddance.

Oh corn fields, oh flowering fields of expanse, I’m coming for you. I have a big bundle of love on my back to deliver as absence does in fact make the heart grow fonder.

And what if this is my job? To be a person. Gosh it’s several full time ones, even the art of getting out of dodge; even just living simply takes a lot.

I want to see simplicity in the air and hear it in the morning sounds; I want to walk with rootedness, not hesitancy. I want the sole of my foot on the mud with trust. I want miracles only real natural worlds can provide.

City life? Eh, you never intrigued me. You always felt so predictable with your loud noises, droves of unhappy, unhealthy people, too many cars, too many options.

I grew up in one of you and left as soon as I had the chance, to live by the cornfields, by the stream in the woods, where nothing happens. Where everything that matters to me happens.


I love you my mama, the land I am of. I’m coming for you and I’m coming on strong, needy, ready for your embrace and since you love us unconditionally, I know you’ll accept me as I am, you’ll receive my butt in your crevices, my back on your curves, the length of my body on your solid, yet permeable support.

There’s nothing in the city that loves me in that way, so I’m coming home to the one who waits patiently for me, forever and ever, and the one I never stop dreaming about. Even when I forget.

So….I’m coming from dodge to meet you out there in the wilderness, in the great expanse. Show me your way, guide me to you, get me out of dodge.



Send me my free EBook on Freedom From Psych Drugs!

* indicates required
Please send me info on (check all that apply)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *