I remember this time when I was a child. I was under my parent’s bed. I was just lying there feeling completely content in the confined area. I remember the wood frame and how I thought it needed to be sanded. I rubbed my fingers across it sure that I would catch a splinter. It was peaceful under there, away from the loudness of my family. I was in my own world, all alone with my imagination. I even remembered thinking how odd it was that I liked it there.
I used to find solitude whenever I could, wherever I could. I didn’t understand why I craved it so. I had hiding spots in my closet, in the basement, outside in the woods. Some I remember vividly, others not so much. What I do remember with all are the feelings of peace I felt. It wasn’t that I did not enjoy being around others. No, I had quite the carefree childhood, full of joy and laughter. My parents took us on little adventures and I loved to play with others. It was that I needed both even though I didn’t know I did. I was self-aware long before I could understand what self-aware was. I needed time to dream and to reflect. I guess I was an old soul, I guess I still am.
As a teen, I outgrew my hiding spots. I stopped dreaming and reflecting. I stopped hiding. I wandered through my days and ignored my inner voice telling me to find a place to hide and dream. It wasn’t cool to do so and so I didn’t. I dabbled with a dream a bit here and there. I wrote and obtained enough peace to get by. It wasn’t enough, though. But, hey at least I was cool.
And then, I grew up…at least I thought I did. I worked full-time and went to nursing school full-time. My first college English Composition class awakened me. My professor was like, “Hey, you’re an awesome writer. You really are.” My classmates said the same. I thought, yes I always have been. I was just in a slumber for a bit. I never wanted to share my real writing before unless I had to. So, I began to hide again. I hid wherever I pleased. All I had to do was grab a paper and pen and I was lost in my own world. My peace came back, my dreams came back, I came back.
Now, that I am really grown up I hide when I get a chance, when my husband and kids aren’t in need of me. I embrace my way of finding peace and so does my love. He even bought me a new laptop, aka hiding spot, for Christmas. We are sitting across from each other right now together, yet hiding. Gotta love two introverts together!
2 responses to “Hiding Spots”
I seem to get more introverted the older I get. It seems I used up all my social gusto by the time I was 18! A good look at our need to refuel through solitude.
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