It’s been 2 weeks now. Two. Whole. Weeks.
Each day sucking in all the oxygen that my 20cm open window would allow. I would bask in any vague rays of sun through the glass of the dining room. I would sit facing the outside world so the light could flood in through my wide-open eyes. I've needed the respite of this cosy comforting home of recovery, but I've been awaiting just a snippet of the real world.
I cannot think of a day- not one single day of my life before- where I’ve not even stepped outside. But it’s been two weeks now and I’m finally granted one freedom. 10 minutes. 10 minutes of freedom. 10 minutes of sunshine filled bench time, of oxygen, of clarity of light- REAL light, full spectrum vitamin D, fresh air, fresh hope, fresh and renewed appreciation for the little things.
Things like flowers, trees, birdsong, sun, breeze, grass, spring, sun, space, sun, air, sun, freshness, freedom, sun.
For that 10 minutes, it was like a pill of pure appreciation of all that is the great outdoors. It was truly and deeply great.
I guess it shows how stripping down your life to the basics of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: internal nourishment, nurture and exploration that even the tiniest glimmer of the outside can feel like the biggest and most magnificently uplifting privilege to receive. When all autonomy is taken away, and you’re fighting the battles in your head, the slightest of external freedoms become the most invigoratingly replenishing gifts that you can possibly hope for. It was a 10-minute escape from the world within me to the glorious world out there.
Just 10 minutes and I feel a renewed hope for myself and an energy that will carry me through until the next time I find myself trapped in my own head. Today I felt the outside world. Just for 10 minutes.
Take a sip from the cup of my mind, and let the thoughts brew...