Hiraeth of My Soul

The gentle breeze skimmed the tips of the tall golden grass bed that dressed the rolling hills ahead of us–the blades, up to our knees in length, swayed left in unison, and back right with the shift of the breeze current. Left. Right. I could faintly make out something in the distance, but it was enough to keep me engaged–the gaps in the grass teased its structure perched on a hilltop ahead. We proceed. In moments, there it was.

Pure, flawless white in presence, with not a single chip in its exterior shell. Yet, a feeling existed that felt so aged, a feeling of a place having lasted lifetimes. Desolated, as it stood so lonely, yet, existing like an old friend who welcomes you with such a warming embrace every time. I could tell she didn’t feel exactly the way I did–I felt a longing for this place, and a feeling of a “Wow, I made it and I belong here.” I could stay completely calm where I was, basking in its presence from a distance in just absolute appreciation, knowing that this place was going nowhere–this felt like home; she, however, carried an anxious need to want to explore, heck, as any curious soul like hers would carry, I presumed. So, of course, her curiosity proceeds us up the hill. 

A beautiful, Victorian-style home stood perched on this hilltop. Picturesque in nature, simplistic, and unblemished. No driveway. No fence. No front door. Just the contrast of its angel-like white stature amid the shimmering gold of the infinite grassland around. There it stood right in front of us, ever so inviting. This place was the closest thing to perfect that I had ever experienced.

She runs up the staircase moments after entering. I watch her fade around the corner of the second floor hallway, as I take my time entering. God only knows what she was feeling, roaming child-like in innocence; Again, I felt completely calm and having no need to rush. The dramatic feeling of knowing I belonged here never seemed to leave my side. To the main living space, I find myself basking in such an inviting light flooding through the windows ahead–the sun poured itself in with an elegance of shimmering rays that brought such life to that room. It’s funny–for a while, I forgot to notice that the place was completely absent of furniture, not a single furniture piece in sight. However, a place feeling so furnished by a strong natural essence, it was easy to neglect the thoughts of once-common things. 

I heard her delicate footsteps running about above me. She was having her own experience. It was two souls brought here for a reason–I was getting a sense of mine, and I couldn't help wondering the reason for her being here. And why with me? 

The once gentle breeze that guided us here enters through an open window of the kitchen to my left. I join its flow in a guiltless dance. I hear her call from upstairs. Just as the exterior, I notice all the walls in the interior carried the purest of white hues. White has the ability of making one feel sinless. I climb the staircase, and enter the room she’s in. The space seemed much larger than what I assumed its size from being downstairs. “Look, do you notice it?” To me at least, this room brought a dramatic feeling of complete connectedness, a feeling hard to explain–lack of words, wholeness. “These window holes have no actual windows. And if you look…look…they were built with no intent on having windows built in,” she continues. I proceed towards one to take in the view of the outside–a cascading golden plain bends over distant hillsides; in another window hole, the sun is introduced as it paints the light upon the tall grass of the infinite rolling plain. It was in those moments that I realized the meaning of this room. Like paintings hung upon the walls of an art exhibit, each window hole was a different art piece, presenting a slightly different view of the natural setting outside. The windowless window holes invited the opportunity to engage all senses. 

Again, there we were, two souls parading through a house that was so aged in lifetimes of time, experiencing this place together with such curiosity, yet having our own experiences. I began to feel she was experiencing this place for the first time. I felt welcomed back–I was gifted the chance to experience things left unnoticed, bringing with me this time wisdom I didn't have before, as well as a friend. I was to teach her what I knew when she allowed for it. I began to understand this truth. 

Together we proceed towards the entrance, and look back at the space, before proceeding out. Being caught up with a place so intriguing to me, like the lack of furniture, it had passed me to realize that, aside from the windowless holes of the upstairs room, the window in the kitchen was the only window actually open. I couldn't help but think as I exited the house “Was someone here before us, or did I leave it open the last time I was here?” 

This place was familiar, and it took being back here to realize it. A friend had joined me, a soul of a friend yearning for a bigger understanding–such an innocent and young soul she was, but as did I, I knew she’d return here again. This place brought forth absolute peace, bliss, innocence, and happiness to two souls. As I didn’t know her experience as much as I knew my own, one thing I did know is that we both could call this place home.

We stood at the bottom of the hill, looking at the structure perched on the hilltop once more. I left her with a “be with this moment, as it's unknown when you will have one like it again.”

My eyes open from this dream. Years from the night I first dreamt it to now, I think about that beautiful, white Victorian house upon that perfect, golden hilltop from time to time. My soul within yearns the desire to be back. Someday, one day.