What the Hell Am I Doing Here?

I’m trying to stop asking that question

I have asked myself that question probably a thousand times since moving here six years ago. Actually, it is probably well over a thousand times. But in recent months I have made a conscious effort to stop asking that question. I have found, though, that occasionally when I am not fully conscious and alert the question will suddenly pop into my noggin.

So where is here? I am currently living in a small town on the Great Plains of Turtle Island. For those not familiar with Native American vernacular, ‘Turtle Island’ is the name given to the continent that non-natives call North America. The Great Plains is a region of endless grassy prairie located in the very center of the continent and is considered by some to be the heart of the continent.

The region used to be populated by millions of bison and thousands of native peoples whose spirituality was nature-based. Instead of prairie grass, the region is now covered with endless corn fields and populated with millions of white, bible-thumping Republicans.

So what the hell am I doing here? I am not a Christian, I am most emphatically not a Republican and, since moving here and witnessing the toxic chemical-based mono-culture industrial agriculture that is so prevalent here, I no longer eat corn or…