Staying put for any length of time has always been hard for me. Discontent with self, with others and their problems, and an avid aversion to the ‘worry ruts’ seem to be the catalysts that sparks the flames of my restless, gypsy heart.  As a little girl, I was always running away to be alone. Being confined to the yard was not a problem, since my yard consisted of about twenty acres in the backwoods of the Quachita National Forest of southeastern Oklahoma. I believe people today would call this the ‘boonies’. These woods were my world and I loved them. I would check out every flower, tree, bug, and trail. My gypsy heart could roam as free as the clouds thus keeping me safe from anything that threatened my world. I could grab an old cold biscuit and head for the comfort of my woods. My house was a long way from town so roaming was allowed.

    My home would, by today’s standards, be a shack. It probably was then but I did not know the difference. I only knew it was my home. Unpainted exterior walls surrounded three rooms, a fireplace, and my family. This consisted of my Daddy, Mama, Grandma, (on Mama’s side), Mama’s brother, and six kids. If the one on the way counted. My Grandpa on my Daddy’s side came out once in a while to spend the night. Mama called him a ‘drinker’ as was my Daddy at times. There wasn’t much room, so needless to say, personalities clashed. My sister always called these times the ‘yaya’ times for lack of a better word. I believe the circumstances of those times birthed this gypsy heart that dwells in my soul. Quiet trees and butterflies were my solace.

Today, I still try to run. When family problems, financial worries, and the ‘yaya’ of this life takes over and closes in on me, and I cannot get out of the rut each causes as they pass over my soul, my gypsy heart says to pack up and move. This is not always possible any more. People do not allow me this awesome privilege. My kids make fun of my spirit of adventure as I call it. Society as a whole does not grasp this concept of ‘mountain woman’ or whatever they would call it, so I cannot run like I used to do as a child.

Now, I find other ways to escape. I attended college for a bit. I work in my yard. I have roses, crepe myrtles, hollyhocks, and various other plants to keep some of the restlessness at bay, but not all of the time. Grandchildren are welcomed diversions as are my kids. It seems like they always need me about the time I am ready to run. Therefore I am obligated by the massive love for them to stay put. There have been times when I have packed up and moved to a new location. I love the adventure of new places. I am probably a therapist dream but this is a very important part of who I am. I will always try to find that elusive contentment of carefree, child-like days and smooth, rut free trails in a time when having a ‘gypsy heart’ was okay.