My mother taught me that the best things in life are free. That you don’t need money or material objects for happiness because it can be found in life’s simple pleasures. Like bursting into dance, like swimming in the sea, like watching birds swoop and dive and build homes in cliff edges, like using our imagination to be wherever we wanted to be, like standing out from the crowd, like thinking outside of the box so much that there is no box and never was a box, like changing who you are and exploring who you are, like picking blackberries, like feeling the sun embrace your skin, like freedom from the world to laugh, swing, create, fall, feel, build, cry, and hate enough to love a million times more.
We ran as wild as the animals, alongside burrowing rabbits and badgers creeping through tangled overgrowth as we leapt through glowing green beds of fern leaves. We cooked bundles of elderberry into magic concoctions upon fires that told us this was our world. We could do anything and we were fearless. It was our woods. We were the woods. Those fallen trunks, and trickling stream, branches we clung to, butterflies we chased, merged into our dreams behind closed eyes as we slept all those nights with only a layer between us and the living earth. Our spirits were free to reach down into the very dust of our creation and I know now what I did not know then. To see this is what God made for me.
My relationship with my mother is my second greatest romance, the first is with my God.