Free, open, alive.
She walked down the road, no cars, carts, horses, people- nothing, no one. Now and then she passed some old shop, maybe half burned down or just all-overgrown. The sky above a raging blue, desperate with freedom, wildly open, completely alive. A reflection of her.
She had been through…a lot. It wasn’t over. Would it ever be over? Was going through a lot just what life was?
A breeze played with her hair, scattered it over her eyes. Gravel crunched under her boots. Faint scent of honeysuckle from some roadside bush. Birds calling in the distance, then close, then in the distance again.
She stopped walking, stood there.
‘What if I just stand here?’ She wondered.
Just stop moving. Just be happy in this one spot, as long as it takes, let it sink in, let it fill every root and pore and cell. It was the happiness that came not from accomplishment, not from being with someone, not from having something. That special, other happiness that came from just realizing completely that you are what you are, that simple sentence, that simple truth.
Looking up, the trees of the horizon drawn down to a green floor for her vision of open blue.
She couldn’t fly, but she felt like it. But wait…what would flying do? Anything was just an activity, a passing moment.
Unless you could drink it in, digest the simplicity of being alive, it didn’t matter what you were doing, it would always be empty.
She was more fulfilled standing on that empty road, completely alone, no money, very few possessions, no idea where she was, or where she was going. It didn’t make sense to her, but she didn’t feel a need to figure it out right now. Rather than analyze, she decided to just feel.
And she stood there, as long as she felt she was able, just soaking in that feeling, wondering if other people felt it, and if so why the whole world didn’t just settle down and be friends with itself.