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Published: March 10th 2010
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Travelling alone, does this mean lonely?
I have given this question time and considered thought.
My experiences are mine and unchallenged.
Another’s opinion is not needed or sort.
Are experiences shared more joyful?
Perhaps, if we all completely agree.
But our minds and souls are all so individual,
There is no disappointment with just me.
When you travel alone, you are never alone,
Those who set you free are embedded in your heart.
The poles still attract, the pull is still there.
Some gently, some fiercely, but never apart.
What I love, I love,
What I seek, I seek,
Where I go, I go,
Who I meet, I meet.
Everything is as it should be.
I am living my life and am free.
I have at last leaned to welcome sweet silence,
Even crave it after the cacophony of living.
To gather my spirit from being scattered adrift,
A tree of knowledge, here in my being.
I travel to challenge my thoughts and opinions,
To expand my knowledge, my mind.
And with faith and sincerity and with ego caste out,
The poor, the needy even hardships are sublime.
I feel like a tree firmly rooted in the earth,
Every leaf is an experience where I have grown.
Every leaf is individual, unique and perfect.
Each leaf like me, stands alone.
And like a tree.
There is far more to me,
Than you can ever see.
Everything is as it should be.
I am living my life and am free.
A Tree, Travelling Alone.
I sometimes think that it would be so lovely to be on my journey with someone. A partner to share moments with. But then I see startlingly clearly that my idea of what it would be like would be far from reality. Then I can relegate these thoughts to exactly where they belong - a dream.
There is the reality of my travelling alone, meeting amazingly interesting people, having no arguments over silly things like where, when and what to eat, money - always a nasty one. I make my own decisions and live with them, happily. When I think of the alternative, there is no alternative.
The possibility of a dream is far too tenuous for me to even consider trading what I have now. I take the responsibility for my life, which in the past I had been reluctant to do and the more responsibility I take the better it becomes.
I feel that I am flowering, although that term makes one think of a young girl growing into womanhood and I am far from that. No, rather than a flower slowly revealing the inner beauty of lush petals, I feel like a tree. Solidly grounded in the earth, growing ever taller towards the sky where I can see forever. My branches are spreading as I learn more and more from an array of knowledgeable people and from myself.
And even when these branches hold no more leaves, perhaps there will still be a use for what is left of me. Something solid to lean against to ponder lives vagaries, perhaps a swing attached to a gnarled branch will bring moments of joy to a small child. Perhaps even when I am no longer growing ever upwards, I may still be of use.
This thought makes me smile. Trees may grow in a forest, but they ultimately stand alone.
I love being a tree.
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Karen Lowrey
non-member comment
your ideas
Beverley, I loved reading your thoughts about solitude, knowledge, wisdom and peace. They seem very profound to me and I can certainly relate to them. I so enjoy reading about what you have been doing, keep on keeping on. What I love, I love, What I seek, I seek, Where I go, I go, Who I meet, I meet. Everything is as it should be. I am living my life and am free. I think this chorus could easily become a mantra for many wonderful people I know! Very well put Ms Garrett. Ciao, Karen in KL x