Leap down the Rabbit Hole- Part 2

 

As she wandered down the path, still high on all that has happened, she gets lost in herself, and she gets lost in her mind, trying to make sense of it all. She didn’t know what she had expected as she was falling down the rabbit hole, but whatever she might have expected was not even remotely close to what she was busy experiencing. As she gazes up at the sky and down at the ground, it is as if the sky is the brightest shade of blue that she has ever seen, as if the clouds were puffs of candyfloss floating in a beautiful piece of art, the grass tickled her feet and made her giggle like she hasn’t giggled in the longest time and as she kept walking every step her giggles turned into laughs, the laughs that came from within her soul and heart, turning into a song of happiness.

 

What she didn’t realise is, that time wasn’t a concept in the wonderland that she finds herself in. first, time seems to go by so quickly and then all of a sudden it just slows down, it slows downs as if everything is put into slow motion. She is usually so used to wanting things to happen fast and the way that she wants it to happen, this wonderland forces her to be present, it asks of her to feel, experience and embrace all the different types of thoughts and emotions that engulfs her as she steps-steps her way through this new place. She regularly finds herself lost in her own mind, lost in thought, lost in scenario’s that she creates, trying to figure things out, trying to be in control. And here she is learning patience, as the candyfloss clouds floats by effortlessly, as the grass pricks her feet and the sound of the wondrous surroundings just flows through every part of her being, like the veins through her body. For a minute when time seemed to pass ever so slowly, she just wanted to tap her heels together and wanted to go home, and she realised that she wasn’t Dorothy and the only way out is through. Here she becomes present, here she is starting to learn patience, here she is just being, being without knowing how or why, here she lost in a wonderland of new, weird and wonderful things and yet this is where she feels most at home, this is where she feels herself.

 

As she gets lost in thought being mesmerized by all the wonder that surrounds her, she loses track of time, she remembers the eyes that met hers when she first landed on the grass while coming to her senses, the eyes that she somehow got lost in, the eyes that glistened with a familiarity that she knew was one of the reasons she found herself in this land of wonder. It is funny, because somehow months had gone past and she found herself finding and exploring new avenues within this new experience, but it didn’t even feel all that long. Was it because she wasn’t living in her head anymore, was it because she was present in everything that she was going through, was it that for the first time she decided to just let go, to trust, to have faith, like when she took that leap down the hole.

 

She somehow found that she had a new sense of adventure within her, she found that she was more courageous than she has ever been before, she found that she was more confident, she found that she had this immense craving to try and want to do different things that scared her, things that has failed in the past, things that she would make her grow mentally, spiritually and physically. She had this new found allure to her, she always had it, but it is only know that it seemed to bloom, like a butterfly finally emerging from its cocoon. As she became more aware of her surroundings that is when she started to blossom, almost as if her embracing her surroundings, seemed to transcend and elevate the vibes and energy that she was embodying and sending out.

 

As the path before her seems long and strenuous, especially because she isn’t aware of what is around the bend or even further down the path, because there is no roadmaps, no road signs; the only signs and way of navigation she has, is the stars that light up the night sky like a bunch of fireflies against a dark canvas, the butterflies leading her to the most beautiful flowers, the little pieces of cakes with the words eat me and the bottles saying drink me, and this was all the signs she needed, because she was present. She listened to the voice of the wind, to the chirp of the birds, she listened to her heart, to her soul, as she followed the path, step by step.

She is in a whole new world, a world that she has dreamed off, a world where magic is at her fingertips, a world where those eyes that she gazed into is her compass, her guide, her true north, a world where endless possibilities awaits her, a world where she is a familiar stranger; this is her hole after all, the hole she leapt down.

small town, with the heart of a big city

I love the fact that I grew up in a small town.

Growing up in a small town changes the way, outlook you have on life, of people and how you view yourself and your place in the world.
I love the fact that neighbours are like family. These are the people who watch you grow up, the people who cares, who will always enquire about you, not to gain anything, but because they really care.
It’s the running into a shop, and no, not the big supermarkets, but the little family owned convenience stores. The way you just feel a sense of familiarity when you enter, the ‘I don’t really know your name’, but I do know your face and family you belong to, even the friends you hang out with. It’s the genuine smile and small talk that actually means a lot.

It’s the creativeness that gets sparked by living in a small town. There isn’t a lot of entertainment, so finding new ways to have fun takes on a role of its own. Whether it be fishing in a muddy dam, playing tournaments (sports and games) among friends, playing a beat on an empty paint can, playing dress up and making dresses for dolls. Exploring the dream of one day leaving this place for the big city, to pursue a childhood dream of becoming a person that the town could be proud of.

Being from a small town, gives you a sense of community, how many times have someone greeted you and you didn’t know that person from a bar of soap. That’s what I miss whenever I’m in a big city. The friendly smiles and waves, without someone thinking that you are a weirdo, stalker even a little of a psychopath. I once had an interaction at an ATM where this guy and I just started chatting, he offered me some of the mixed nuts he was eating, and I took some. In that moment it wasn’t about being male or female, being a certain race, it was about familiarity, community and just being friendly and kind. I’ll probably never see that person again, but putting a smile on face of a small town girl, in the big city, well that’s an achievement.

Being from a small town also means that people are constantly in your business, I wouldn’t say this is a bad thing. Just because people ask how you are, what you have been doing lately, or even state that you may have gained or lost weight, doesn’t mean that they are rude. Growing up people know you, so even if you find that remark about your weight offensive it can be looked at as someone who saw you grow from a boy into a man or girl into a woman. It’s always good when people enquire about your well-being. You actually miss this, when you walk down the street, unfamiliar faces wherever you see and no-one seems to care how you are, who you are and even noticed that you shook off that weight you said you would on New Year’s Eve.

Being from a small town also means that the links between family and friends are so much closer. Explaining to your parents who your friends at school are, you just need a name and surname and by magic your mom would tell you about the family tree of that person, how they are friends or acquaintances and send regards to that family. So people assume that you know each and every one from your ‘town’, which isn’t the case, but by some slight chance, you’ll know about that person, through a link that you weren’t even aware off.

Small town people also have their own way of speaking, different accents and variations of speaking a certain language. Getting the familiar ‘oh you speak so well, for a small town girl’ speech or ‘you sound weird, because you are from a small town’. It’s funny, one won’t think you have a different accent or manner of speaking, until you see a group of people from the same place and see how they interact. That’s what makes it so amazing being from a small town, you stand out in the big city, and using ones differences is always a game changer.

I love the fact that I grew up in a small town, it makes you appreciate the smile from a stranger, going home and feeling as if you never left, the creativeness sparked by the achievements of others, the different variation of a language, but most of all the familiarity and community. I love being from a small town, with the heart of a big city.