Walking in the Woods
Walking in the woods.
Here I am — on an unmarked path leading somewhere — is that a vaguely prophetic analogy for something or what? Yes, that’s an actual question Mr. Owl or Ms. Pidgeon or Whatever-gender-you-are-currently-identifying-as Shrub.
This path is so inviting, so enthralling, so path-like.
I’m not sure where I’ve been or where I’m going as I don’t believe in maps, plus I love losing myself in the not knowing (though the actual losing of myself is slightly less fun). I also don’t believe in lining the pockets of those greedy map salespeople. Or lining pockets in general unless it’s really cold out and I happen to be carrying extra insulation (it could happen).
Not worrying about bells or whistles or buzzers or what time dinner is because I am the cook and “I’ll tell you when it’s dinner!”
The woods.
So peaceful, so calm, so removed from the world in the most positive don’t-freak-out-I’m-not-suffering-a-breakdown-sort-of-way. When I suffer a breakdown, you’ll know. Believe me, you’ll know.
Deep breaths in — damn the air is fresh and to think I’ve been wasting my time breathing all of that non-fresh air — and eventually those breaths in are followed by deep breaths out or otherwise I’d float away like a balloon.
I once spent 10 months believing I was a balloon though that’s a rambling, nonsensical part-dream-part-recap-of-grade-1 story for a different day.
Surrounded on all sides by trees which reminds me, in many ways, of being surrounded on all sides by people, only the trees are taller and (mostly) less chatty about inane things that make me almost want to either pull my hair out or run home and bake mediocre raisin cookies (are there any other kind?)
When we were younger, my sister once helped me remove some of my hair without my permission. She now works as a therapist. Coincidence?
In these woods, I’m alone. Or at least I like to think that so I can sleep at night.
I’ve spent my life always surrounded by people — some short, some wide, some easy to sit on. It also turns out that many of those short, wide and easy to sit on people were actual chairs in the first place, but I’m trying not to get hung up on details. Generally if a chair cries or slaps you or spoils the ending of a TV show it’s probably not a chair.
So often I’ve wanted to jump up — “watch out, forehead!” I often say to my forehead, but does he ever thank me? — and scramble away. “Scrambling like eggs” I’ll whisper as I leave. Leaving the cars and their exhausting exhaust and the buildings and their cocky facades behind me. Going beyond where the sidewalk ends and then going a bit further as I don’t even want to see any sidewalk — can’t I have a break for a while?
So often I’ve wanted to escape. To feel the wind in my hair — thank you hair extensions! To rid myself of the rules and regulations and schedules and paper cuts that hurt so much more when I pour lemon juice on them and then even more when I have no lemon juice left to pour on my overly-acidic salad. To be free of the shackles that YES I BOUGHT WITH MY OWN MONEY, MOM!
To be in the woods.
Damn it I love mulch.
And peat moss.
And those old rotting tree stumps that I can stand upon to give myself the illusion of height (hey, can you blame a guy for wanting to be three dimensional?)
How I long for long paths — short ones need not apply (which is depressingly what my mountain-like friend told me when he was interviewing all the neighbourhood kids for the job as his assistant).
To place one foot in front of the other — I humorously call these “steps — and disappear up yonder hill or ‘round the bend. Bends are incredible. As are Ss and curves and, to a lesser degree, zig zags.
I’m always telling people about things that happen in my neck of the woods — seriously, I never shut up about it. I could speak forever and a day about necks and all they are good for, while also reserving a section of the talk for some of their obvious limitations.
And here I am. At this moment, in the woods. On the trail, surrounded by trees, breathing the air.
One of the very moments I live for.
Walking in the woods.
