Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Alone Beneath the Southern Cross

As a child growing up in rural Georgia, I developed a habit of wandering off in to the woods or fields on our property. I was in search of a hideout, a place to escape the constant barrage of personhood one experiences in a family of six. Especially one that lives in a very small house.

I never thought about why I climbed trees to get away from the rest of the world. I just did it. Now I know that I was seeking the comfort and solace of solitude. A place to dream dreams and pretend.

I crave alone time. Did even then.

These last few years, my life has been topsy-turvy and willy-nilly. If you are a regular here, you know all about it. If not, trust me. And while things seem to be getting 'better', and I seem to be getting better, the ground under my feet feels like shifting sands.

Huh?

I feel like I'm either tiptoeing or barreling through (depending on the day) a Twilight Zone episode.

Maybe it has something to do with my cat whizzing in my aunt's fireplace gravel or me breathing Kilz fumes for two nights in a row and having a bout of allergic-itis that included sore throat, runny nose, coughing, sneezing, and sleeping a lot.

Or maybe it's because I'm working again. Or that I'm 53 years old and living with a relative rather than in my own place. Or because I (Ms Get-It-All-Put-Away-As-Quickly-As-Possible) have boxes all over my bedroom and my office equipment is still in Dahlonega.

It could be that being back in Villa Rica and having a family again, one that is quite large and branchy and complicated, is overwhelming me just a bit.

You think?

Well, hell, it has been a long time since I felt like a scolded seven-year-old.

Hey. It could be that Bobby McGee is bouncing in and out of my life and my emotions are wonky in his wake. I could be hormonal. 'Cause God knows those finally joined the party.

Whatever is going on with Olivia, I am in serious need of a hideout. And not just any hideout.

I need a beach. With the waves and sun and sand filling my senses and seabirds wheeling overhead.

Here's a 'beach' song that touched me in a special way today, Southern Cross by CSN.



And don't miss the amazing website I found when I googled Southern Cross. The pictures are phenomenal. 

16 comments:

Roland D. Yeomans said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Roland D. Yeomans said...

Sorry, Olivia :

I left out a word in my comment. I hate when I do that.

Sometimes we are forced to do the inner hideout : to close our eyes, imagining the swell of ocean tides upon a too-white island beach, listening to the song of gulls near and far and smelling the faint aroma of lush tropical trees.

It sometimes works for me. Sometimes not. Sometimes the magic works though, Roland

welcome to my world of poetry said...

Most enjoyable to read Olivia,


Yvonne.

Eric W. Trant said...

I feel the same way. I grew up making forts and hunting the East Texas Piney Woods. I love my alone-time.

I took the kids this weekend down to the local park and we slept outside under the stars, two nights, no tents, just us on the ground wrapped in our bags against the wind, which roared like a bitch. We walked through the woods at night without lights. We touched Ghost Tree and found secret hideouts and got in trouble with the law (really).

Home sweet home.

- Eric

Postman said...

"Constant barrage of personhood."

I've never heard it said better myself. Sometimes there's just no substitute for alone-time. Those who seek the high places know what we need.

Don't forget this one.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-qvIvBhSX8

Donna Hole said...

Love the song. Just made me feel better somehow.

I'll be so glad when all my adult children grow up and move off on their own. I don't feel that will ever happen. I'll always be responsible for someone else's happiness.

I'm still raising boys. Maybe that's why I'm not looking to date. A MAn is just another boy to take care of for the rest of my life.

Don't listen to me Dear; its late and I'm tired but can't sleep. That hormonal-menopausal thing has hit me too.

Feel free to come up my way anytime and we'll go to Fort Bragg (CA) and sit on the beach at Pudding Creek. We can have a dueling laptops competition. My sister will insist on going, but give her a soma and she'd rather be snoring than conversing. Or playing on Farmville.

Sometimes alone in a crowded room is the best solution :) Just in case someone gets the hungries for crab . .

.....dhole

Jayne said...

I hear ya, Rebel! Can I join you on that beach? ;)

Jayne said...

I hear ya, Rebel! Can I join you on that beach? ;)

Mary Vaughn said...

Alone time -- everyone needs it.
Moving in with anyone but especially a relative after being alone on your own is most difficult. You feel like a child again. Take care and don't give in to the being a child thing.
Whatever you do make time for yourself.

Jules said...

Been here, still here and wish I had a magic wand, we'd both be cured. The beach does call us now and then and solitude does ground us.

Peace my friend and since my damn videos aren't working I'll have to go play this song for myself.
Jules @ Trying To Get Over The Rainbow

Olivia J. Herrell said...

Roland, yeah. A mental one is all I've been able to grab so far. But I'm determined to find a spot soon.

Yvonne, thank you!

Eric, yes! Exactly that. Your weekend with the kids sounds oooooeeeriie and fun. I remember us striking out in to the woods on several occasions, in the daylight I admit, looking for the mysterious Roger Bear, the maneating scary thing that was supposed to live in the woods behind the saw mill. To be brave enough to go on those outings there was 'safety' in numbers.

BTW, thanks for stopping by. I've been out of the loop for a while and promise I'll make it by your place soon! How's the bambino?

~ Olivia

Olivia J. Herrell said...

Postman, hey you! So glad you stopped by. CSN had some awesome tunes, thanks.

Donna, omg. Yes! Fort Bragg sounds perfect! Can't wait till we all hit stardom and can commune in person. Won't that be a riot? In the meantime, I'll send some mental mojo toward your live-ins see if I can't get 'em moving for you. Hmm. If I could I really would.

Jayne, absolutely! I may be planning a late August run back down to the Islander on New Smyrna Beach. We loved it last year. But I'm oh-so hoping to get down to Orange Beach in AL or somewhere else close by within the next couple of weekends.

Mary, dang, it's old homeys week! Thank you for stopping by and for the encouragement. You are so right about the child. Thank you.

Jules, yeah, huh. So solly your video wouldn't play. Hope it's fixed for next time.

~ Olivia

Elliot Grace said...

...you've mentioned that magic word, BEACH. Just hearing mention of that word stirs a need to pack the car.

...wanted you to know that you've earned a mention on my latest post:)

EL

Roland D. Yeomans said...

Congratulations of finally getting wireless again. I know being without it is a pain. Welcome back, Roland

Ivy Bliss said...

Is Villa Rica any closer to me? I ask Ginny every time I see her. Maybe it's time I found out for myself?
I love you. I think of you often. I'm going to start publishing my writing here. It's been mostly journalling lately, though. But...the ABC blogfest is upon us. And I've been working on my list.

Jo Schaffer said...

The beach makes me smile! (=

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails