Places for the soul

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I think I was about twelve years old when I read about the concept that we have places that feed our souls, and places that drain us. At first I brushed it off as bollocks. To me, at that age, feeding the soul had little benefit.

 

But then I grew up. And as life’s pressure brought me to my knees, I returned to the idea again. It took me a while to figure out what I needed to push my reset button.

 

One of my friends gets rejuvenated by people. At the end of a grueling week she dresses up in her gear and look for a party. And when she drags her body back home (usually in the early morning hours) it is with a joyful heart and a relieved mind.

 

My husband’s place is the sea. It calls to him, and he longs to go there as often as he can. Long walks on the beach. Swimming in the waves. Floating down the lagoon. All of that restores his energy and reset his mind.

 

But for me, it is forests.

 

Let me walk in the shade of the giants. I want to touch the bark, crush leaves beneath me feet, smell the wood. I want to sit down with my back to the trunk of the biggest tree I can find, and look up to find the little splashes of sunlight high above me.

 

I long to hear the birds sing, the soft scurrying of little things who life there. But most of all, when I close my eyes, I long to hear the trees talk in groans and whispers.

 

But the best is to lay down on my back, looking up into the sky, and see the trees dance in the wind. They swerve and sway like Fred Astaire and Rita Hayworth. Their dancing are so fierce that you can feel it beneath your body, all the way into their roots.

 

My heart longs for the forest.