This short story is a work of fiction:
The gravel path meanders around a hill, green meadows fill the horizon, alpine trees sway gently to the rhythm of the evening breeze, and I, settled on a stump, deep in introspective thoughts, blanketed by the silent wind, enveloped by the shell of solitude, body and soul at peace. The kind of conflicted peace, for it’s been a while, that the body has known nothing but peace, albeit a lonely kind of peace.
Should I stay here and enjoy the silence, or should I drive further down and see the world and find value in the people that exist in this small universe we call home? Should I remain here, continuing to be lulled by the complete solitude here to mistake loneliness for peace, or should I go out, find people to talk to, and connect with the reality of our world, even if that means, making myself vulnerable to the brashness of men?
Then I made up my mind. I needed some adventure in my life. “This place is dull. I need to go away, to a place where I get to savour the taste of adventure, to a place where I get to soak my feet in a sea of new possibilities. Endless possibilities, good or bad, who cares, I just want to see what’s out there, just to fill that void in my soul.”
So I gathered my strength and affirmed my volition, to leave this place of peace and solitude, the place that took me forever to find, and the place that wore me out, not for its imperfection, but for its predictability.
Then, in my favourite pair of yellow boots, and a light spring jacket, I took two stalks of lush emerald grass, a momento of the piece of serenity that I was going to leave behind, squeezed those stalks into a glass bottle that I closed tight. I filled the bottle with the scent of the place for I knew I was never going to come back, to a place this boring, this predictable.
I am a man of adventure.
I left. As I walked away, I saw my favourite stump on the meadow disappear gradually into the horizon. My favourite stump, my temporary home, where I sat and gathered my inspiration, where I placed a makeshift samovar of English tea that sustained me during those breezy evenings when I spent the entire time, staring at the infinite skies, counting stars, billions of stars, a reminder of the minuteness of us, those tiny specks of dust.
My favourite stump, now gone, replaced by the unfamiliar sights, first the alpine trees, then farmsteads, then cottages, then people.
So many people, that I no longer felt alone, and the moment my heart felt so, I knew I must stop my journey there. For I felt warm inside. The fuzzy feeling in my tummy. My emotions felt the kind of heat that I never felt before.
Could this be love? I don’t know. It felt good to feel that you were not alone after being ensconced in solitude for so long. This felt like an adventure. I was elated.
I thought it was about time that I opened up to people, I thought it was time that I sought validation from people. I thought it was time that I gathered my emotional strength from people.
After all, by then, I had already made peace with my inner self, in that lonely spot by the meadows, where solitude was bountiful, in a place where it was me, my samovar of English tea, and the stars at night, mingled to form a galaxy that validated my existence.
I had my peace in solitude. It’s time to start a new journey, with people, their feelings, their emotions, their desires, and their dreams.
I felt validated when I made my first encounter with people. I thought the people would welcome me with open arms. I thought they would complete me. I thought what I had, would be valued.
So at that time, during my first step into the world of people, I said to myself: “Let’s take this step out of the me-zone, into a zone that I get to share my wonderful existence with people. This is a new adventure. An exciting new journey. Let’s begin this adventure.”
Then I got weary.
Bring me back to that little stump. I want to see the stars at night. I want to go back into my old, lonely soul. I felt lonely, but I felt fulfilled. I felt validated. I want that back. Bring me back to that place. Bring me back to my favourite stump by the meadows, overlooking the gently rolling emerald hills.
Because I miss the simplicity when life is about what your soul yearns for yourself, not about what another person thinks how much you are worth.
Bring me back to that little stump, by the meadows, overlooking the gently rolling hills.
Bring me back.