homesteading

A person is a wild country, populated by all the memories and dreams of who they were and who they want to be. Some could draw the map of it simply. Others have an uncertain geography.

And then there are those who were deep-rooted in childhood, but later exiled from themselves. I think maybe, sadly, this is too many of us. We forget our grounding as others - advertisers, motivators, teachers - try to drag us up so that we can reach for the stars ... Become more ... Move out of our comfort zone, even though that zone is our home, our heart.

We learn that who we are is not good enough.


I am an old and strange country. I am deep hills, silent forests, and wind within a white and crouching sky. But I have all my life been called out of myself. I've been told to tell the right kind of stories - which means that my own stories are wrong. I've been ordered from my forests to smile in the sun.

Maybe it's been bad because I'm a woman. Or maybe everyone has it like this - called to go adventuring, instead of being allowed to homstead the land of themselves.

A person should know all the medicinal herbs that grow in hidden places of their self-country. They should be able to read the weather signs, and know the best months for planting. But how can a person do this when they are always drawn away from home?

I know writers who fear if they don't produce frequently, no one will want to read them, so they write any old thing to keep it going.

I know women who just want to dig in their garden and read books and paint pictures, but instead go out and about because if they don't they fear they will be missing something they are told they should want.

I know far too many people who do not dreadlock their hair, or wear white lace dresses, or go without make-up, because they fear not being acceptable, loved. And so they leave home in search of a place of belonging. The irony is tragic.

How can you find yourself when you are wandering around outside of yourself?

How can you tell your own story if you have to use everyone else's words?

There are many appalling histories of war, decimation and slavery amongst the people of our world. But amongst them is a quieter, slyer history - that of assimilation, in which the natives of a country are drawn into the culture of their invaders, so that they gradually lose their language, their earth memories, their inherent ways of being. It's soul murder. I was lambasted recently for turning away from a social media community of strangers whose conversations discomforted me. It was as if I am allowed no boundaries around my soul's property. But I've been realising these past few days that I actually need to keep building walls (although with plenty of doors). I need to claim my territory.

And you. You are your own country. You are the only one who can steward it truly. If you do not tend to the land, and weep for the rain, and let joy be sunlight to make things blossom and grow, it will become barren. You will.


3 comments:

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    1. thank you so much for taking the time to leave a comment :)

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  2. Great article. Nice read :)

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