I remember the house…..a long time ago it seems, but as fresh as yesterday.
I remember the place where my life changed. It was a place where my eyes were opened to a whole new world that I’d only merely peeked into before. It was a life unlike what I was used to, yet not afraid of, as those there had good hearts and open minds. I learned what it was like to be truly free – to be truly me. I also learned to see others for who they really are, and not to let it get in the way of my freedom.
There were many good nights in that house, and many funny stories to tell. We were told what it was like to hear sounds we didn’t want to hear at the table, and how some tables could be turned in quite interesting ways, with humorous endings. It was a time when one could be ostercized for just being themselves without stepping one foot over the threshhold. It was a time when bonds that held life in one direction were suddenly severed and cast aside.
It was a house of change, of freedom, and of wonderment – even though some were blind to it.
I remember the smells, the sights, and the thoughts that occurred, many of which were new to me, but now as familiar as the oldest of friends from times long forgotten. The smells carry forward to this day, and can be found if one knows where to look.
Ah, Patchouli…..how I miss you.
The music and laughter that rang throughout the rooms at night reminded me of happy times, and I still remember them fondly. I remember surprising looks, and funny retorts. There were times of hardship and turmoil, although they never lasted, and the lives returned to the way they were. We were all normal people, for we knew how to live.
The house is gone now, but the trees in the front, and the ideas remain. The trees are a reminder – a gateway from the way life once was….to the way life became – what it was meant to be.
Ah the memories…..those times that truly set me free. How I will always cherish them.