Tree Hole

They said in ancient times, people would go into the mountains and the forests to find a tree hole, and tell the tree hole their secrets, then they seal the hole with some mud, and the secrets would stay there forever.

I guess everyone needs a tree hole. People have too much pressure nowadays. Under pressure, either we run, or we endure. For some people, run is not even an option. So they endure, and endure, and endure, until one day they explode. Yet they don’t talk. They are so afraid that everyone else is everything else but themselves. People are ultimately lonely. The more, the less.

Maybe that’s why I like water. It’s liquid; it’s smooth; it floats and it heals. It demands just a crack to sneak in, but a large space to fill out. It’s like time, something subtle, yet so real. But one day he told me, don’t think about time, think about life.

Sometimes I wish I were a little girl. I would wear a sunflower dress, with a huge hat, and run into the forests to chase squirrels. Then once in a while I will stop to pick the flowers, to taste the creeks, and if I were lucky, I would find a tree hole too. Then I would sit down there and talk and talk, until I fall asleep.

I used to try too hard; now I finally learned to step back, or even step out, stop, and breathe. I have been trying to find someone who fits, someone I could trust and be comfortable with; but recently I have been wondering ultimately what I want…I guess ultimately I want someone who would listen even when I am talking about something really crazy or stupid, someone who would smile back when I am smiling crazily or stupidly.

A tree with a tree hole. A little shade and a safe place.
That’s enough for me.