Feeling different in America followed by a reflection

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When my sister, an artist and potter, read this she wrote back, Thanks- I literally gave a big sigh of relief. Personally, I feel a lot better after reading that. I have been different all my life. Not that many people spend several hours a day unburdening their souls by confabulating complex metaphors in the form of poetry. That's one of my biggest differences. Others are my diet, which is very finely tuned and intentional (eating for the gut), I play the harmonica really well, in a number of modes and styles, including blues, jazz, folk, and blue grass. I improvise. I'm an improviser. That's how I approach art as well. For me a line is a dot moving through time. (Grass taught me that when I was 22.) I spend a lot of time alone and like it that way, but I value my friendships. Most of my friends live far away. I don't like traveling that much. I tolerate flying to get somewhere, but once I get somewhere, I find places where I can be alone with nature. Alone means I don't have to explain myself. I have fairly strong opnions about what matters and what doesn't, and I am not a fan of most of what passes for popular culture. I think I would be much happier in certain other countries, but I am too old to relocate and learn another language, so I am staying put for the most part, and I'm OK with that, but, coming full circle to this poem, I have come to terms with being different by reminding myself that there are other places in the world where people are not so different from me as I have described myself. It eases my mind to picture people with the same leaves as mine thriving just on the other side of the mountain.