If you haven’t figured it out by now, I have a lot of theories.
Especially about this mysterious “adult world” that I have only recently gained admission to.
Here’s my most recent one:
There is a beautiful pond by my place of work. The reeds and the cattails billow in the wind, and the fountains gurgle in its center. While walking along its path, I’ve had to dodge Swallowtail butterflies and listen attentively to a little bird that chitters and cheeps at me when I pass. He is so persistent that he will fly from branch to branch to keep discussing things with me. If I allow myself, sometimes I feel a little bit like Snow White.
But there is an irrepressible, underlying urge that I experience when I am soaking up these sun-saturated moments of free spiritedness and clean thinking. And it’s this: I can’t help but desire to crawl into those reeds, deep into the heart of them. Until I fall asleep.
Every. Single. Time.
And I have some theories as to why this is, too.
First, is my cave man/cave woman theory. When humanity was first dawning, and we were getting ourselves set up with the basics, e.g., food and fire, we paid particular attention to our shelter and our dwelling. I mean, we refer to this time period in humanity’s history as the cave men and women era. Perhaps it is in our nature to seek solitude? Private peace?
Or maybe we should take it back even further. Pre-womb, let’s say. The world looks a lot different when you’re swaddled in an amniotic sac (mmm, cozy).
Or maybe we should fast forward a bit. To right now. Because when you see an extra pillow, blanket, and table, you don’t see all of these materials but one: a fort. (Forts are for everyone, by the way. Adults with blogs included.)
Maybe we all just want to be nestled somewhere we feel safe. There’s plenty of evidence to support this in our daily lives (and in snuggie commercials).
But I think something else is going on. I think when we have moments of wanting to hide for awhile behind reeds or even other people, more than anything, we want to be found.
Now, I know I sound like some Sara Dessen wannabe, but hear me out.
Do you remember playing hide and seek? With your cousins. Your siblings. Or your neighborhood friends. Do you remember your perfect hiding spot? Under the bush. In the cupboard. Down the basement. Do you have it in your mind? Good. Now, go back there. And pretend you can hear your “It” friend counting backwards. “10 Mississippi, 9 Mississippi, 8 Mississippi…” and then, they finally call out, “READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!” And–you feel that little quiver of excitement. You felt it just now, didn’t you? And when your friend gets closer to your hiding spot, you can feel it then, too.
But when they start to walk away, you feel it recede. You may even feel disappointment settling in. And whether you are angry that the sheer genius of your hiding spot is a bit too intelligent for your average foe or that your knees are starting to go weak from crouching, you are a bit upset that you haven’t been found.
And so, when I’m contemplating diving into the reeds, I know I am not actually trying to hide from my responsibilities or life. I just want someone to find me, to reassure me that I matter. And really, when was the last time someone truly found you? If you start “hiding,” try seeking yourself and your personal desires. Or play a real game of hide and seek to remind you what it’s like to be your best self: as a kid.