Oh for the sanguinity of being in Mother Natures bosom.
Far away from tumultuous grasping of modern society and the machinations of the human mind.
Away from the harried rumble of incessant traffic, of bustling individuals vying for space on their personal treadmill of journey’s to and from work.
Away from the garish, high definition, pixelated preoccupation of humanity and the subsequent sense numbing devices designed to distract us and subvert our own unique particular creativity.
Instead I would have the exquisite paradox of being alone amongst the flora and fauna of the outside world. For it is only here I find consummate peace.
A sense of oneness with my environs, a joyous relinquishment of humanitys preconceived perception that the demarcation of selfhood ceases within our own flesh.
You would find me amongst the overgrown groves hidden away from the eyes of men who would be deaf to the subtle yet pervasive genius loci inherent in these sanctas of Gaia. Here I would hear the barely audible whispers of the primeval past, of nature spirits playing amongst the undergrowth and of human supplication to those that would listen.
Or on a citadel of rugged granite clifftops towering over a bottomless, tumultuous ocean of crashing waves. The roar of the sea serving as a metaphor for my souls cry for a fully realised union with all that is.
After some time you may find me alone amongst the wilderness, in the wildwoods or along austere, barren and tide worn coasts. No longer dressed or preened for societal consumption.
My hair long, tousled and rain sodden. My sun parched face and body engrimed by Nature’s earth.
My clothes tattered and torn from living a life of feral freedom.
Despite my appearance there will be a wild primal glint in my eyes.
Telling of my complete and utter return to my primordial archetype.
No longer alone or differentiated but whole, inseparable from the Earth and the cosmos within which we all belong.