dreaming of adventerous wanderings . . .

So I am reading a remarkable book called Born to Run, by Christopher Mcdougall, about an ancient hidden tribe of long-distance runners living in isolation in canyons of Mexico.
This sentence really got my attention:
"In 1983, a Tarahumara woman in her swirling native skirts was discovered wandering the streets of a town in Kansas; she spent the next twelve years in an insane asylum before a social worker finally realized she was speaking a lost language, not gibberish."

There is a story there worth telling.
How did she get to Kansas all alone?
Did she run there? (They have been known to run over 400 miles without stopping. . . )
What did she do after being released?
and how crazy is our world when a sane person spends 12 years locked up because no one can understand the words they are saying?

I think we have lots of things back-asswards.

Separation is the problem, connection is the solution. . . .



"All day I think about it, then at night I say it. Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing? I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that, and I intend to end up there." --Rumi