There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is a society where none intrudes,
By the deep sea, and music in its roar.
I love not Man the less, but Nature more.
-Lord Byron
Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet
and the winds long to play with your hair
-Kahlil Gibran
For everything you have missed, you have gained something else. And for everything you gain, you lose something else.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
In the summer I work at a nature camp as well as lifeguard. I work with children and with animals (reptiles, too, to be technical).
Some days at camp I take the kids on a journey to the Indian Burial Ground, where all the old Indian chiefs who used to live on the land
are buried. There is a great stone circle composed of
about 28 different shaped stones. Each represents one chief. The area is holy, and still run by the Indian spirits. If you try and dig up one of the stones, or attempt to find any of the chiefs you will be cursed.
This is completely untrue.
The location of the 'Burial Ground' is in the middle of the forest, where the only sound you can hear is that from the animals, the insects
and the wind. It is a small clearing completely surrounded by towering trees. Everywhere you look: green. It's places like these that I can see myself setting up camp and living for the rest of my life. It is secluded but completely inhabited, quiet but pressingly loud, and shaded but full of light. When I go into the forest I shut my eyes and imagine myself in a whole different world. One that has no petty drama, no other people, no problems, no technology, no automobiles; just Nature and me.
Being alone with Nature is a whole other experience; completely polar opposite to the world I live in. In this other world, I can breathe. I can walk without worrying about stepping on and crushing those delicate eggshells. I can look without worrying about who I might see, or what I will see--because I know I will see beauty. I can live without having to think, or worry, or deal with conflict. I can yell at the top of my lungs and nobody will hear me, I can live without having to worry who I will offend, or who got too intoxicated to function. I can just be.
In this other world, everything is perfect. When it rains, it pou
rs. And then the sun comes: the leaves, the ground, the rocks, everything, is left gleaming and glistening in the beams of light that manifest. This world, my ideal world, is perfect. Not one single flaw exists. In this world, I can be me. I can be happy. I am happy in this world.
Times like now, when pressure begins building, stress levels are reaching the top, the drama-o-meter is just about break, I would really love to go back to my other world. Times like now, I notice myself daydreaming more. Shutting my eyes and imagining myself walking through the woods, dodging spider webs, climbing rock and mud walls, walking through the creek, and finding my own personal solace.
Somewhere to go to get away from the ecclesia that is my life. Somewhere where I don't have to deal with everyone's personal problems. Times like now, I wish that I could just live for me, do my own thing, go through my routines and not have to speak with anybody.
Right now I'm nearing my limit of bunkum. Bunkum being everyone else's bunkum. Bunkum being synonymous with poppycock, codswallop, flapdoodle, garbage, nonsense, rubbish, and the list goes on. I'm tired of dealing with explosive tempers, despondency, vileness, and in general, the vast pool of turmoil I've been forced to swim in for... quite a while now. I'm not sure what to do exactly, as living in the city can make it difficult to find a serene place to go to empty the mind and relax the self.
Forty three days until it is over. Until everyone can go home. Until we start our break. Until Change occurs. Until we lose some things and gain others. Until everyone else's crushes, inamoratos (or desired inamoratos), and objects of affections can be separated and diminished. Until life becomes normal again. Until the sun shines all day. Until I get my 14 hours and 55 minutes of sunlight (summer solstice, if you didn't know).
There are things I wish I could say, but for one, this is not the place, and two: I don't know how to say it. I don't know how to say anything without getting sprayed and buried with lava, or having nuclear fission happen to my entire body. There are things I want to tell you--but it can't happen. I can't be the start of WWIII, this is supposed to be the New Deal. If I say these things the Axis will reunite and be joined by another. It can't happen. I don't know a way to do it without that happening.
So I guess for now, it will go without saying.
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