Sometimes I feel a bit constrained and out of sorts with
my surroundings.
This feeling hits me especially hard when I find myself
in social gatherings of kind folk I hardly know. Social graces expect little
more than polite small talk. Seems I’ve
never mastered that critical skill.
I’ll try to find a quiet corner, not conspicuously
alone. But most large gatherings of folk,
especially inside stick houses, will leave me feeling a bit claustrophobic. Claustrophobic
and looking like a duck out of water:
But then I’ll sneak away to my beloved Brazos Bend:
I’ll walk the park and look outward. I stumble upon a quiet gathering of Mother
Nature’s creation, where communal silence seems to replace small talk.
Would I fit in I wonder?
Or do even these quiet societies have those that need a quiet away, to
look beyond their own one life? And
without realizing it, do we quiet ones seek solitude in places that remind us
of our own kind?
And then Mother Nature tells me that it’s not about
the group gatherings or the one alone. It’s about looking out and beyond my own
one life.
It’s about finding that place, and that way of living, that
is so much more than I am, alone.
I love these turtles. makes me want to stretch a little . :-) mary
ReplyDeleteHave you considered volunteering at one of your favorite alone places? You could perhaps be a duck in safe waters. :)
ReplyDeleteYes, volunteering at a place you love would be a very good idea! Susan
ReplyDelete