Today I went walking in the forest. I don't know why. I didn't plan it. I just found myself getting up from the lounge, putting down the chocolate, and tying up my shoes.
As a rule I don't exercise. It's easier to do nothing. It's easier to hate myself.
I know I need to make changes, but it's so much easier to just sit back down and watch another movie. To watch other people living wonderful, fulfilling lives. It's easier to be nothing myself.
Today was different somehow. It's like something was calling to me. Something I couldn't see or hear. Something inspiring movement in my wasted limbs. Something calling out to my very soul.
Through the open fields I wandered. Mindlessly placing one foot in front of the other, drawn onwards, ever onwards.
With time the field gave way to trees. The forest grew up around me with each laboured breath I took. It was too small to notice at fist, but with every step that I took through the trees I felt the peace growing back into my heart. With every breath I felt the self loathing slip away, I saw the world grow brighter. With every step my heart grew lighter, my mind clearer. With my body moving my thoughts gained purpose. To the rhythm of my breathing I contemplated myself. With the sun shining I remembered who I am.
Then the rain came down, gentle at first. It filled my lungs and clung to my eyelashes. It was like walking through a cloud. I smiled through the water as I felt a bubble rising in my chest.
Then the rain got heavy. It poured over me and I stopped. I stopped to hear the beat of the earth's heart dripping through my blood. I stopped to revel in the calm, in the elation, in the peace. I stopped to revel in myself. I turned my face to the sky and the bubble finally reached the surface. I laughed. The rain washed me clean. Washed my soul clean.
When the hate creeps in, it's like poison. Slow and patient and deadly. It seeps into my bones with every second that I spend away from this place. From the living forest that reminds me I'm alive.
Most often I am dying so long that I forget to even come back here. I don't notice myself changing. I feel fine. Until the forest calls me back here and reminds me who I am. It draws the poison out. It folds me deep into it's embrace. It reminds me that there is still beauty. Still purpose. Still peace to be found.
This life I have chosen. This path I am on. I think it is good for me, but it is so not good for me. There are no trees where I work, but the money is good. It's a good job. It's everything I was ever supposed to have. But as the poison sinks in, sometimes I hear the forest calling me home.
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