Roots

“A tree without roots is just a piece of wood.”

I was watching a pre-recorded version of Masterchef Australia early this morning (around 2:00 o’clock insomniac that I am) when suddenly talking to the contestants, encouraging them to  go back to their childhood and use their earliest memories as inspirations for that day challenge Marco Pierre White said: “A tree without roots is just a piece of wood.” Immediately it conjures up in my mind an image of a driftwood on the beach, no anchor to hold it down and the waves carry and toss it around. It goes from place to place from shore to shore completely in the mercy of the ever changing whim of nature and it hurts, it really hits me to the core. Being brought up isolated by tyrannical parents and being part of a dysfunctional family of nomad gypsies who moved a lot, I never find where I belong. My roots had been pulled out before they can even have a chance to settle and get hold. Me and my siblings, we never had a contingency to grow and flourish in a familiar soil. I’ve said these already before, If I could reach for something brilliant that would be the home which been denied to me and the presence of the peace I’ve never known…