I have started a writing course offered by the Life Righting Collective, and this is the first exercise in the course. It is based on the use of Morning Pages. This is my safe place.
The tall oak tree was there to be climbed.
It had stood outside my childhood bedroom window. Always whispering and rustling. It stood proud against the backdrop of the garden landscape.
I started climbing, feeling the rough bark beneath my young, soft hands. Stretching upwards to move from one sturdy branch to another with my shoe encased feet finding purchase.
The branches became smaller in circumference the bark smoother and less gnarled. The air was sweeter and crisper. The sounds of the ground life fading away. I climbed and climbed spurred on with the determination to conquer this mighty oak.
The ground looked so far away and the sky ever closer. As the branches gave way to twigs. Twigs that were straining under my weight. Bowing yet resisting. I found a fork in the tree to sit in and nestled into the tree and looking outward.
I could see over the tree, I had climbed to the top and was as high as the tree and I could what the tree could see. And it was everything. The horizon looked further away than I had ever seen.
The gentle sway of the tree rocked me quietly.
I felt invincible and alive with possibility as I scanned the area trying to take a mental portrait of the views. I felt safe and protected by this oak. Nothing was going to harm me. I was protected.
The feeling and nostalgia I have for this old safe place makes my heart ache. As a young child I really did feel like there was endless possibilities. Life has just knocked the wonderment and innocence out of me.