It was always quiet in my world; no voices, no human sounds. Just me.
The breeze whistled through the pine trees creating soft music, a soundtrack to that moment of my life, a familiar sound that spoke of comfort, belonging and safety. It was soothing then and I can still hear it in my mind now, feel the breeze that touched my face as it passed on its way, the scent of pine and country air.
The branches occasionally rubbed on the roof but rather than interrupting my moment of solitude it augmented it, punctuated it; thin needles scraping in time with the breeze, like a clock ticking, a metronome setting the tempo of the moment and my life. But time stilled when I was there - I was apart from the world and within my own, one of my own creation - the laws of the other didn't apply here, not even time.
As the sun warmed the tin it would click and pop as it expanded and contracted each time the sun popped out from and went back behind the clouds. This alarmed me at first - it was a long way down should the roof collapse - but I became accustomed to it; just another small part of the world to which I'd removed myself, another element I'd later remember fondly.
There were birds. I'd sit so still and quiet and they'd flutter down and alight upon the branches. There they'd nestle, at first furtive, then comfortable I was no threat. I think they loved the place as much as I did...We shared it and I liked to think of them as my friends.
The world
I was nine years old; a quiet boy, a little intense, a furrowed brow, often deep in thought and very shy. I could be cheeky and funny, but my experiences at school had stifled that part of me whenever I was not around trusted others.
I'd been terribly brutalised from the age of five - It seems I was so hideously different from the other kids at school, due to my name being funny and my skin being a little darker, that they had to outcast me, throw rocks at me. It seems people spitting on me, as a five year old, is an acceptable punishment for my differences. So I retreated mostly.
I found places I could be safe, feel safe. I created a place that was mine. No one knew of it - I would have got into a lot of trouble for being up there - and I liked it that way. It was mine and I could be, just me.
My place was on the top of an outlying tin shed upon the property on which I was raised. It stood beside a stand of tall pines and that's how I accessed the roof; I climbed. I was a small chap at the time, my size came much later, and it was an arduous climb, but once up I knew I'd found a special place and I made it mine.
I found an old wooden box with a lid. The leather-hinges only just holding it on. It wasn't easy hauling it up there but even then, at nine, I was determined and rarely let a task defeat me. In it I stashed my treasures. It wasn't much: A cup for my juice or cordial, a small canvas-covered pillow for my head, a torch (yes, even then I was prepared for eventualities), a few quartz rocks that I liked the look of and an old chipped tin plate which I'd eat my lunch off. I didn't need much more in my world...Just a book.
I'd spend a lot of time there.
Growing up in a small rural town in the 1970's meant kids had a little more freedom and it wasn't unusual for me not to be seen for many hours - All day sometimes. In the school holidays I spent more time there but if weather permitted I could be found there - I should say, I would be found there if people knew where I was.
I'd make myself a picnic - simple fare of a cheese sandwich, some cracker biscuits, small container of sultanas, an apple, orange, almonds - whatever I could scrounge up and fit into my little sack. It wasn't ever much, but it sustained me through my solitary adventures. I took a flask of water, juice or cordial and I'd climb up into my world and stay there, safe, secure and content. It might sound sad, that I felt the need to retreat as I did, but to me it was wondrous. It was a place I made, I owned it, and there no one could reach me as I delved into other people's worlds through my books.
The books
I read my first real book up there - The Hobbit. I'm sorry but I don't have the words to describe what that book meant to me or what having Tolkien's world as an escape truly meant. My world and his combined and there seemed little to distinguish one from the other. I know now that it's the many tiny, and not so tiny, moments of life that shaped me into the man I am today but it was through that book, and that place in which I read it, that I discovered so many things about myself.
I had learned very hard and usually painful lessons at school and at nine years old was still learning them the hard way.
Being an outcast, unwanted or needed, the person no one wanted to play with, talk to, help, take pity on...Being those things was easy - Humans made it that way.
Being me, the boy who had to process that, live through it, make sense of it, accept it and accept myself was not easy...I only had myself for that and it was through moments spent in my roof-world and the books I read there that helped me do so. The Hobbit was the first of many.
I read Roots: The saga of an American Family by Alex Haley next. I was still nine and the the book horrified me. The brutality of slavery, the mistreatment of people for their colour and the characteristics of a human seemed so unreal - But I knew it was not...I cried a lot during that book...And when done I had found that I possessed a deeply protective nature, that I felt so strongly about holding a shield over those who could not do so for themselves. I wasn't to know then, as that little nine year old, that that trait would stay with me forever and become one of the cornerstones of my nature.
Next was the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and through it I learned about courage, honour, sacrifice, selflessness and the beauty and purity that comes from doing the right thing. I learned about love, how to give without the expectation of receiving, of cause and effect, hubris, ego, greed, but also kindness, generosity, chivalry and more...Lessons my father and mother also gave me but in my world, through my books, I was learning for myself.
It was 1980 now, a new decade, and I was a new boy...The same really, just different - I felt new though.
Clouds and closed eyes
Sometimes I'd lay there, dappled sunlight coming through the pines warming me pleasingly, the breeze-symphony soothing me and the clouds scudding across a deep blue sky overhead.
In those clouds I saw shapes and figures and they were always different - Everchanging. There a dragon, now a battleship, over there a dinosaur - Everything was there, and sometimes nothing. Just clouds.
I loved those moments in which I felt so content, so removed from the hurt and rejection, the pain humanity had brought me and the shame of being who I was - Just clouds and me, the warmth of the sun and the tree-song of the breeze and pines. I was deepening as a boy. What I didn't know is that that boy would reside within the man until this very day, and it is the boy who helped shape the man I am now.
I'd sleep too. Oh how I'd sleep. Looking back now I can say it was one of the only places I have ever felt able to fall completely into the nothingness of sleep. One moment it was clouds and blue skies and then nothing - Blackness. I long for that sleep now because my sleeping hours are sometimes shadowed by a different type of blackness. When I'd wake though, I'd blink to become accustomed to the brightness and feel new. How I wish for that sleep now.
Returning
I think about that place a lot. I remember the bed of brown pine needles I'd lay on, the dappled sunlight and shade that warmed or cooled as needed. I remember the lunches, some of the finest foods I've ever eaten were on that roof - Or so they seemed - Simple fare in a moment of beauty made the food wondrous.
I remember the branches I'd stand on to get there, each bringing me deeper into my world and further from one that seemed not to want me. I remember the pine sap on my hands that lingered for days. I didn't mind, it reminded me of where I'd been and to where I'd retreat soon enough. I remember my clouds, my books and the deep sleep of the contented that I would experience. I remember the peace and quiet, the aloneness, the everythingness of nature in which I was cocooned.
I think about returning. I think about being there again, physically and emotionally, but life had other plans for that little boy, for me. I went to many places, did many things and have been left with many memories, scars too. Each is just a thread in the tapestry of me, each a moment of light or darkness, of colour or shade. I'm not new anymore. I feel used, sometimes used up. But I stand, I walk forward. I am me.
Yes, I think about returning to that place but life moves in one direction only and so the little boy who found himself moved with it and became me.
This post has been written for my WE80 posting topics concept topic one, four and five combined.
Design and create your ideal life, don't live it by default - Tomorrow isn't promised so be humble and kind
Discord: galenkp#9209
The images here are my own.
Bitter/Sweet Memories we often wish we were able to reverse the clock to find those times to enjoy once again.
A space where one feels secure and content always questioning as growing older realizing things are not always as they appear.
Very confusing to young minds, developing us into who we are, realizing river of time flows forward and onward, we only have one direction in keeping going.
You know, I often think how good a coffee, or other such beverage, (and bloody cakes) would be with you. You have much wisdom to impart.
Would gladly pitch a tent under the stars with a fire going making stick bread, chatting the night away.
We don't know where we going to if we don't know from whence we have come, something along those lines my Dad always said.
Sounds pretty good to me.
Thank you for writing about your life. This is a beautiful post and I also can relate to the way books and story have helped me so much. The Chronicles of Narnia had a profound effect upon me and gave me a place to rest in my mind and heart as a kid. I am re-reading Tolkien's books this year. Cheers
Thanks Jon, sometimes stuff wants to come out and so I let it which is probably not a bad thing.
Chronicles of Narnia is a great story indeed,. Lot to like...And LOTR.. Worth a re-read it three.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
I'll message you @galenkp on Discord also =)
✅
This life is a great arena of conflict and collision, and during this journey of life, man must go through all the experiences of loss, separation, failure, even helplessness, all these things we have, learned us to become other people more conscious and careful, because we must go through the worst to live the best and make the best.
This life is a great arena of conflict and collision, and during this journey of life, man must go through all the experiences of loss, separation, failure, even helplessness, all the things we have learned to make other people more conscious and careful, because we must go through the worst to live the best and make the best.
What a childhood, your segregation started from the beginning of time.
I would have been surprised but we as kids go through a lot that parents may not understand.
You were lucky to find your special place where only 7ou would go.
Returning to that place would be evergreen in your mind and I think you could visit if it's still available but I guess not...
It built character and helped shape me into the person I am today. I don't look on it as a pleasant time or experience however I know many who had far worse experiences as a child. In comparison this is a walk in a park. That doesn't negate the impact of the situation so was in of course, just puts it into perspective.
I learned many things that helped me be a better person later so the joke was in them huh?
Just as J.Cole puts it fool me one time shame on me, fool me two times shame on you.
Certainly, you learned far better than them so the joke is on them.
Taught a few of them a pretty harsh lesson also. But that's a whole other post and one I'll probably never write.
The harsh lesson,they sure deserved...
I sure wasn't expecting such post and you never can tell what could be told.
I often wonder just how many rough men Tolkien helped survive to adulthood! This post took me back deeply and fondly to my escapes as a child. We bounced from fairly large city areas in S. Florida (where my dad is from) and extremely rural S. Georgia (where my mom was from).
Each had a unique escape for me that were so very different, yet equally formative to who I am today. In Georgia, I had the swamps and woods and I had such immense freedom to explore and build and create. Learning to catch and cook your own fish and small game taught me that regardless of who let me down and abused me, I could always make my way alone if needed. S. Florida had the beach and the wonderful, sublime juxtaposition of being so close to people on shore yet completely alone beyond the breakers floating in peace. There were also many abandoned commercial buildings where a boy and his skateboard was free to rule without interference from authority. This taught me the power and importance of creativity.
Man, this post made my weekend! Thank you so much for sharing!
I think we all had a place we felt better and sometimes it was in our heads at other times a physical place.
Those formative years are so important to us yet we don't know it...Now I can look back and see the value and how the difficulties helped shape me. There were more to come of course, different ones, harder ones, but we work through them huh?
Thanks for reading and sharing a little of your own past. You're a good chap.
From time to time I wonder if knowing how important those experiences were to me being who I am would have made them more bearable at the time, but I'm not sure I would have learned as much possessing that knowledge. Sometimes trials, tribulations, and despair are the steroids of character!
You're not so bad yourself! lol
Adversity is a great teacher. Of course, it takes the right person and attitude to make it so.
I was thinking I'd get to the end and find out it was fiction but I was wrong. Your childhood wasn't exactly a bed of roses but I'm glad you were able to find a safe place amidst all that.
This is as real as it gets my friend, raw, open and honest. But I survived and am better for it.
Thanks for commenting.
Your life story touched a deep place in my heart of a little girl that use to spend all day in the woods. It was the one place I could do no wrong. It was mine and if I did not want to be found I wasn't. That was my lifeline to carry on when I was 9.
Thank you for putting into words how I felt about my woods.
Honsnooi, thank you for reading and your lovely comment. It's a pleasure to prompt a thought it two for you about your own place when you were a child. I think we should all work to become more understanding of how our younger self shaped who we are today. We had no woods close by when I was younger but had there been, I would have been in them. I am making up for it now though.
Thank you.
Yes, our lives as children can dictate how we interact with people for the rest of our lives. I know mine has. Plus the older I get the more I realize how lucky I was growing up where you could be gone all day and no one gave it two thoughts.
I hated shoes so hated stores.....every year after the last day of school I "lost" my shoes until school started once again.
sorry, I could go on and on.
I know what you mean about going on about it - That's because it has value and meaning, the moments and looking back at them. Sometimes I wish I could just jump into a time machine and go back...But that's not possible so I try to recreate the moments here and now. It mostly involves nature as that's where I feel more like myself.
I could not agree more!!
Damn it, just saw typos in my text.
Cannot...Resist changing...It...
Done.
Ahh, that's better. 😊
HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
I fixed mine for you :D
Greetings galenkp, what a coincidence, these days I was thinking things that came back to me when I read your writing. Something to do with taking refuge in the past, going there to look for what we surely won't find because we are already others...
There is much wisdom and many lessons to be learned from the past. Thanks for taking a read.
I had a place like that, but it was in the jungle and I wouldn't take books there ^_^ I have gone back there recently and a lot of the jungle area around it got cleared out (not the place itself which was kind of a ditch) and it pretty much destroyed the feel of the place.
Can you go back physically?
Yeah, jungle cleared. Ain't humans grand.
Nah, the property was sold. I offered to buy it, was big but I would have borrowed to the hilt to make it happen. Mum said no as she didn't want arguments between the siblings. It was a dumb reason. Instead if it being in family hands and passed on to family when I die someone else owns it. I'm probably unlikely to ever get over that.
The shed is still there. I google-mapped it when I did this post.
I love this post. You yourself are quite the writer.
I think we will get along quite well. As a youngster, I delved into books as well. Tolkien, Feist, Jordan, Eddings to name but a few. In recent years also really liked the works done by Steven Erikson.
I have been working on my own epic fantasy world for years now. I am still working on it. Now that I have moved into the new home, I will actively be making time for that.
I hope you find some peace in your soul. I identify with that feeling of fatigue you speak of. You get so exhausted, regular sleep does nothing to relieve the tired feeling in one's bones.
Thank you...I like to write and this one was personal and for my #weekend-engagement topic WE80. I don't usually post about my own topics but wanted to do so on this occasion.
I write fiction also, and behind the word fiction is often a lot of myself and experiences. For the reader the trick is knowing which is which. Like I said before, I write for me, for the enjoyment and cathartic feelings and so I write a lot.
Thanks for your comment and sharing a little about your own writing.
I have been getting the writing "itch" again. Often when I do not get to write something creative I get these really vivid dreams. I am somewhat of a world-builder so even if i am not creating fiction, I am expanding on stuff that exists in my worlds.
Hmmmm... I am getting into that mood again.
We'll get along fine I think. ✅
I'd hug that kid so tight ! He grew up to become a great man. I just wish his road hadn't been so challenging.
It was beautiful to know all the details about little Galen's secret place, his getaway from this reality. I could perfectly picture it.
Thank you for sharing this. ❤️
Yeah, he would have liked that I think.
Don't get me wrong, my childhood wasn't altogether bad and I don't attach stories to the events that occurred to make excuses for things that went wrong later. The events, well, they made me stronger, more resilient, more determined and a better man overall. It was a challenging journey, and is still in truth, but it's my life, all I have and I'll not waste it. I am me, the only one there will ever be.
Now, about that hug that little chap would have liked...Who would have thought I'd turn into the world's best hugger all these years later. I know, sounds incredulous, but it's true. 🤔😉
Thanks for your comment, it's much appreciated...Also that you took time to read this long post.
Couldn't have said it better.
I'm the kind of person that applies the scientific method to verify observations. So...
Always.
One must apply science I guess although whether one applies theoretical or practical science, the resulting conclusion is the same: World's best hugger. Here's the formula:
H¹+H²xT = WBH
So...Hugger one plus hugger two times by TIME equals world's best hug.
It's a well known formula and rather simple really.
So... The longer the time, the better the hug? That sounds very interesting indeed. I might have to do my own experiments and collect my own data. Would be quite the relevant paper, wanted by all the prestigious science journals and magazines. World's best hugger... Definitely worth it putting it to test.
Well, it's usually the way, time=awesomeness, however some research may put the matter to rest once and for all I guess. It's probably worthwhile putting in the time. I'm sure all the appropriate science journals would thank you.
There could also be a Nobel Hug Prize involved. One never knows.
It's settled, I'm including this research on my list.
Wow... Words failed me. You have definitely been through a lot and I know that's the reality of life for so many people too which we haven't even heard their stories. I am glad you turned it around and here you are. It made you better informed and you know how to be your own cheerleader without seeking approval from anyone else. It made me understand what you said last week about not needing the approval of anyone when I mentioned sharing my post on Twitter. I am thankful for a strong personality like you... It helps to build that character in others.
This is but a small fraction of the whole and yes, there are so many of us who have had similar journeys - All of us really in some way or form.
Points for remembering I said that and for connecting the dots. Well done. ✅
I am strong yes, but there are degrees of it and I sometimes crack and fracture, again like others. What matters is that I don't break, that I get up, dust off, and keep going.
I absolutely love this. Let them throw you to the wolves, you will come back leading the pack. You've built strength over the years and it's massive respect for you, sir. Cheers to "no breaking."
Indeed.