4/22/07

sunday scribblings: rooted


I've torn up my roots twice in my life. Yanked them from the ground, dirt still clinging and falling as I scurried off not bothering to fill up the hole. I left home when I was 20. I grew up in a smallish college town and found it stifling and stunted. No matter that all the chicago princesses(they were called something else but its a derogatory term ) and rowdy frat boys from around the country came to the nearby agricultural university to let their brains plump up. I wanted nothing to do with it or them. I was an outcast in my own community. I needed to get away to a place that had scenery and lots of people to get lost around.

So I left the midwest and went to Arizona. I had never lived on my own and before I yanked out my roots I made sure I had a u-haul full of seedlings to grow my new roots. The ground was dry. Roots were hard to grow. It took me almost two decades before I felt as if any of the roots 'took'. I moved half a dozen times to varied neighborhoods and never felt like I liked the soil around me. Maybe the point wasn't to have the roots grow and 'take'. I liked the sky. I wanted to be free and not have to yank out my roots anymore. Roots to me meant family. Possessions. Owning too many things. Establishing hearty relationships with people. Joining groups, having coworkers. None of that applied to me, or if it did, not for very long.

I yanked my shallow roots out again when I left Arizona (yeah you've all read it 20 times by now). I like to keep my roots in a glass water filled bowl. I don't want to plant them anymore. I want to be able to carry them with me without all the trauma of digging up the earth and severing delicate limbs. I don't even want to be buried when I die...I just don't want to be under the ground. Its heavy. Its dark. Old thick roots can strangle you down there.

Sunday Scribblings

11 comments:

BlueJude said...

Love this! It totally speaks to me as I can so realte!
AND I love the new piece below!! Congrats on the sale. I really like the chicken wire!

Beaman said...

It's something I can relate to also. The idea of being buried is rather frightening.

DJPare said...

I'd rather find a way to be put into the sky than buried when I die too. Let me know if you figure out a way... :)

Nellie Bass Durand said...

Hmmmm ... I wonder how many of us felt like we didn't belong in the places we were born and grew up? Thank God for "coming of age" and being able to take off to find our way and place(s) in this world.

Bug said...

It's funny--I crave roots like I crave food and water. I guess that's what's so lovely about people--we're all so different! (Though I def feel the same way about my home town that you do.)

Mardougrrl said...

I go back and forth on this one...wanting the stability of being HOME even as I long for new vistas. You captured the latter view very well. :)

Misplaced said...

I've been waiting for you to start writing on Sunday Scribbles- as always- love your writing.

Self Taught Artist said...

misplaced...dont let anyone know i'm conforming okay?

January said...

The image of you keeping roots in a glass speaks volumes. Even though I have established roots and connections now, I can definitely relate to a time when I could put all of my stuff in my car and just go.

Patois said...

Beautifully written. I truly enjoyed it. I especially love your line, "I like to keep my roots in a glass water filled bowl."

Shelby said...

This mirrors much in my life. I get it. I so get it.
I simply love reading here.. I shall return - often.

Shelby