Native

My voice is changing, my focus is being drawn elsewhere. I don't always know how to handle these pulls. When I take a step back, I see how my Self is scattered in so many places, and some of these places I need to leave. While I gather myself, I tend to my creative fire. I don't 'know how to' write, I feel tired to act too meticulous about it, I can't seem to make space for yet another 'practice' in my life. Yet I love these 5-minute free-writing challenges by @mariannewest on @freewritehouse. They are short, they are light and fun and I am seeing where this takes me and how it invites me to go on.

This is the first time I post it on my blog as well. Not sure if I'll keep doing this.

This is also different from the other two times I joined this challenge - I set the timer and wrote by hand and then transcribed it here.

Also I seem to have used all my HP so I could not post this on the day I wrote it.

Lastly - I am sharing a (too-exposed) picture here of my friend, the native tree. She lives in the forest not far from where I am currently living. She was at the source of inspiration for this writing prompt.

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I met her barefoot by the tree in the forest. She was sitting at the base of the double trunk tree. She looked both young and old and her eyes reflected the green of the leaves.

'She's native', said the tree. 'which means that she is of this land'.

'Oh' I said, 'just like you and your brothers and sisters around here?'

'Some of us are from here, others have been brought in and are finding it hard to be here'.

'How so?'

'This is a forest with oaks and chestnuts, and laurels and much more. I am an old one here. These cousins of ours are brought in from far away to serve a purpose that is not for the land'. The wind ruffled her leaves and she asked 'You're not from here either?'

'I was born in another place and have been traveling to find my home'.

'Home, what is that?' asked the tree...