When she was young, she would sit by her cottage window and stare out upon the vast expanse beyond, painting the beauty of nature. The rolling hills and vibrant meadows seemed endless, with the small garden in the backyard sprouting new life. The sun that crested over the mountains and the crisp air against her skin made her feel insignificant in the face of the expansive world ahead. She had no worries or concerns in this place of serenity, with all she had to think about being her next breaths and the beauty of the world depicted by her paintbrush.
As she grew older, she found herself forgetting her place in the world. She no longer visited her little cottage on the hill, and time seemed to slip past her as if she were simply watching herself through someone else’s lens and never truly living. Yet, the memory of those early days in the cottage haunted her like a whisper of forgotten dreams. The bustling city she now called home was a stark contrast to the serenity of her childhood. The incessant honking of cars, the ceaseless chatter of people rushing to and fro, and the relentless demands of work had swallowed her whole.
One night, in her upscale apartment in the centre of the city, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The haunted woman who stared back was a weary stranger, almost completely unrecognizable. She realized at that moment how much time she had spent simply surviving, sleepwalking through life without remembering the importance of her existence; without recalling her aspirations, desires, and hobbies. She had never tried to reconnect with the innocence and wonder of her youth, when she had felt like anything was possible. She yearned to once again become in touch with that side of herself; to return to her cottage and feel the crisp morning air and the warmth of the sun’s rays.
The next day, she decided to return to her childhood cottage. She drove from the city to the countryside, the juxtaposition of the two environments reflecting her own differences. When she arrived, she found the once beautiful place disastrous. The garden, once tended by her loving hands, had fallen into disarray. Weeds and overgrown plants had taken over the plots and once-vibrant flowers. The fields, with no one to cut them, had become a tangle of wild growth. They almost seemed to mirror her own messy life.
Instead of feeling overwhelmed, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. She rolled up her sleeves and got to work, weeding, soiling, and planting until the garden looked as it once had. Over the course of the weeks she stayed, she worked hard to rekindle the place that she had once loved more than anything. There was much to do in a short time, so she got to work, cutting grass, gardening, refurnishing, and building. By the end of the two weeks, the place was back to its previous state, and so was she.
She felt reacquainted with nature. The long hikes over the rolling hills and early mornings watching the sunrise behind the mountains had made her remember what she loved so much about nature. She regained that sense of insignificance and even found herself painting once more. She was filled with awe and inspiration.
Over this time, she had found a balance between the tranquillity of her childhood and the bustling nature of her present. She realized the importance of carrying this balance with her wherever she went, no matter what her surroundings suggested.
In the end, she had not forgotten her place in the world; instead, she had rediscovered it. Life was no longer something she merely watched pass by; it was something she lived with intention and appreciation, just as she did in her youth.