Absolute

Grass Field

When I was a very small child I remember roaming through fields with my brothers and our neighbours. I have strong associations with those times as being part of a unified family group, a feeling of intense and absolute belonging, with no query. The fields we wandered, full of long grass & wild flowers were fenced in by immense oak trees, which seemed to me as large as gods. I remember horses whispering warm breath on my small cold hands, climbing lichen & moss covered fences and gates crossing seemingly endless vistas of grass.

In a new home many year’s later these childhood meanderings developed into solitary excursions.  Rather than safe explorations buoyed by my extended family, they became a search for haven, escapism from the mundane repetition of everyday routines and a longing to recapture the state of being previously taken for ‘absolute’, the search for a sense of belonging. Our family had fractured and dispersed, each alone beneath the same roof. Seeking hope and a place to belong I ran through the long grasses and delved into observing the neighbouring fields and the lives played out in them. Countless hours I spent lying perfectly still on my back watching the grasses sway around me, the insects, the birds, absorbing the sounds around me, watching clouds skid across the sky, drinking in the smallness and the bigness and seeking answers to the question I had: were others feeling this same sense of aloneness? It took an entire field to hold my aloneness yet I felt my wholeness, with nothing to impede it, could fill the sky.

I wrote something at this time, something I stumbled across today. Young as I was I was trying to explain where I danced from:

‘If I dream myself alive, I will awaken, I will live. I evolve alone, alone but whole. At peace, I seek depth.  Touching the real, really living – can you see that I am alive? This is where I find the dance’ – twelve year old me.

Words by errant satiety image from Stefan Olivier

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11 comments on “Absolute

  1. cpmandara says:

    Escapism… we all have our different havens in which to escape and I have to say, yours sounds rather wonderful 😉

  2. jayne says:

    Oh that felt so lyrical Errant. I know memories and feelings from my own neighborhood friends and creek and fields and hills. It took a field to hold you… Did you develop your sense of expression and introspection because of that freedom to explore and relate to your surroundings? I wonder if it was in you or was it developed by circumstances? I have thought of this a lot because of places where fears keep kids close to home or inside fences. It makes me wonder when the cost of that loss will appear… Your memory is beautiful and magical …and look at your 12 year old self! Intelligent with a deep sense of self already. I bet you dance beautifully…like a dragonfly dances and spirals just above the tips of tall grass. xo, Jayne

    • Good question Jayne. For as long as I can remember words flowed through me but the relative freedom I had did allow my expression to flow. I spent long periods of time alone growing up and I always populated my aloneness with words and fantasies. I have so many notebooks filled with words, I pulled a few out to read through and find I couldn’t believe they were my thoughts and words. I should say I realised this morning that I was actually 15 when I wrote what I quoted. I had remembered incorrectly. I love to dance and am told I do dance beautifully. I don’t listen enough to compliments about my dance it has always been one of my greatest treasures which I have guarded close to my heart.

  3. dievca says:

    Lovely at 12! Lovely now. Time for you to find and field and lie in the grass and Be. XO

  4. mrmodigliani says:

    The visions of our youth, often prescient and wise, define our identity and then our dreams. And our dreams become our path. Thank you for sharing this.

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