On Walls and Turning Feral

I think a lot about walls.

That’s a normal thing to think about, right?

Not figurative walls, but actual walls. Like “what if all of the walls in this building suddenly disappeared and we could all see what each other was doing in the other room?” Its a recurring thought that I have that is starting to make me feel a little claustrophobic.

And I’m beginning to think that I need fewer walls.

Not figurative walls, but actual walls.


I took a trip to Yosemite a few months ago. It was definitely the right season in my life to go, but maybe not the right season of the year. Its frigid here now and will be for seemingly the rest of eternity (or at least until Spring), and I feel very hemmed in by structure, both of my house and my responsibilities.

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The trip added kindling to a spark in my insides. One that I stifled years ago to pursue a dream of big-city living, but have slowly felt warming me again as I’ve started introducing the boys to the wonder of our fierce and gentle friend, nature.

The fire it lit has left me feeling restless in the sense that I am too comfortable.

That makes sense, right?

It left me desperate to explore. To get dirty. To run barefoot where the tide kisses the earth and where the trees reach up to the heavens like an extension of my reach from the ground.  To stand silent in the grace of freshly fallen snow and dance in the water where the sun bounces off the facets of a fresh swell.

I fear (embrace) that I may be turning feral.

Like, I am starting to identify with the mangy cat that you keep trying to bring in your apartment to keep warm, but who keeps escaping out the window at night to hunt porch garbage from your neighbors.

I’m chuckling as I type this, realizing how unstable it sounds, while proudly thinking to myself: “I think I just found my new spirit animal.”

*shrugs shoulders*


We have walls that contain every THING we could ever need, but I have an undeniable knowledge that by getting outside of these walls, we will find everything we need.

So until the earth warms up and I get a chance to head back outside, I’ll be sitting in my too-comfortable home among my too-many things and too-convenient amenities of city life (for the record, I’m rolling my eyes at MYSELF as I type this) and daydreaming about lapping up milk from the garage down the street.

Meow.

2 thoughts on “On Walls and Turning Feral

  1. You amaze me with your choice of words. You are an amazing woman, with many sides. The thing is, you thrive and succeed in all those sides. You,d be surprised (or not) how many of us relate to this. Winter 😡. Yes, I love all seasons, but I need outside too. Winter closes me in. Babysitting (loving on) my grandsons (1-1/2 yr old and almost 4 yrs old) I feel happy and an expert when we can get outside. WINTER , not so much. It takes more creativity to feed into their wonderful energy, and create memories. Thank you for your open heart, and honesty. We will get thru another WINTER 😕☺️

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