One day I´ll leave.

It won´t be an escape, not a break-out, nothing that dramatic, but a quiet getaway, well prepared, magic in its intuition, in its immanent need.

No, I am not longing for that moment any more. I am here and now. In this body, in this garden, in this house. The house where my parents lived without love for so many years.

People call me the inheritress. In doing so, they refer to the fact that I don't have to earn money. They assume I don't work. I try to ignore what people think, or say, for they don't have the faintest idea about me.

My work is called “Seeding”. At least that's what I call it. Out here, it becomes a twenty-four hour service. A Happiness-Creating-Service. It requires tenacity. It needs calmness and inner peace. Not my typical trades. But I try. It's not that easy, surrounded by death and memories.

Once I’ve already left this place. Full of dreams, full of hope. I wanted to experience life. I didn't know anything, I was unprepared. Basically, I was yearning for love. My only strength was my youth.

I was an empty vase hopefully waiting to be filled with beauty and diversity. At once I gave my hungry heart away. First it felt warm and good. Tenderly nurtured by my lover's strong hands. I felt protected, sheltered, fed at a gentle pace. Shortly after, I realized I was wrong. My beloved became careless crushed my heart and threw it away. Then he threw away his own life.

It caught me by surprise, like an accident where you know something really bad has happened to you, but you don't know where or what it is. I went through the gluey stages of loss, they went through me. I grieved for our lost love. I grieved for the man, my beloved would never become. I grieved for the dreamy girl I once was and left behind, forever…

Of course I survived. I wasn’t well armed, but somehow I retrieved my broken heart. Put it back in its original place. It hurt. It burned. I was weak and felt sick, but deep inside I was longing. Slowly I made myself ready for the sequel to my search. I wanted my hope back. I wanted my stolen dreams back. My pain and the Bearing-Up-Against-It were my new companions. Indeed I felt a little numb, but a little better armed as well.

I’ve come across varieties of life and love. I was searching for the right place to be. Searching for the right person to be with. I was searching for the home-feel I never knew. But what would it be like? I had no tangible idea. So I tried out to design some models of perfection. Sometimes it felt as if I’ve found it. But the protection of my heart absorbed me for the most part. I moved on and on. Oh, I was driven. Sometimes I felt good and strong and gave little pieces of my heart generously away again, afterwards I was weak again.

Would this search ever end? It already took ages. My ages! What did I do wrong? What was wrong with me? What is wrong with me?

AWAKENING
…I awoke from the dream. The fever was gone. Outside I heard a loud familiar sound. The sound of the garbage truck slamming itself on the desert floor. Finally, I sat up.

Everything was clear now.  I had to start here again. Prepare myself. Teach myself. Arm myself. Get myself ready for life and love once again.

For this I made a plan.

Step One:

Cleaning and beautifying the house with real positive energy in my heart.

Purpose: Changing the negative energy of the house. Turning the cursed lifeless house into a lucky one. Learning to care about things.

Step two:

Working on a blossoming garden.

Purpose: Create something beautiful and living. Keep it alive.

Step three:

Endure the quietness of being alone in the house, in the desert. Endure myself…

Purpose: Befriend myself.

So here I am. Now. Seeding. Maybe harvesting one day.