Dear Mother,
It has been a
while since I last wrote to you. Not a lot has changed. I’ve been at Uni for
more than six months now, and I still don't feel at home. The other girls are
different. Different because they don't like the same things I do, stay up late
and party all night to complain the next day. They forgot to complete necessary
work for the subject. I have been very busy with study.
Walking around
the grounds, to clear my head and have found the perfect spot. It’s up in a
tree. When I sit there, I am able to see the white-capped mountains. Sometimes,
I just sit there and listen. I have a few private moments, before I am
transported back into my mundane life.
Uni isn’t as
interesting as I fantasied, but I am enjoying the work. I do try to get along
with my dorm-mates, but it is extremely difficult for me. They are always
talking about things I don't particularly need or want to have any part in.
It’s always about the next party, or the new dress and down to the lastest pair
of shoes.
I have to choose
which subjects I wish to continue on with. I’m not sure what I am to choose. My
teachers have told me I can do well in any I choose. My head wants me to go one
way – the easy and more successful way. My feet want to follow the path less
taken – the one where I will feel more at home.
I go to as many
musicals as I can afford, because I feel more at home. The sounds of the violin
sweep me over the top of the mountains, like a bird, and the mellow brass take
me to the deepest depths of the sea. When the concert is over. I feel like
crying. Crying because there are only a few places in the world where I can be
myself and speak my mind.
I believe my
dorm-mates will become friends if they stop, listen and sit in the tree with
me, perhaps, they will understand why I love to look at the mountains; to
wonder about the world beyond our own and choose where your feet will take you.
Your feet are
never wrong because they know where you want to go in your heart. They know
your deepest desires about the choices you wish to take but choose not to
listen. Perhaps there is someone here who will sit with me and listen to their
feet, because the feet know the road not taken.
Love,
Lorraine
