Curious by nature Kat often sought the company of scholars, and those well traveled. With rapt attention she absorbed what was shared, the mundane happenings of the world as exotic to her senses as her life was to others. A wonderful novelty of being that she'd ponder in her pampered life.
As she found herself stuck in the bog, she tried thinking back to the stories told, of what berries were good, what water to avoid, how to seek shelter. With more failure than success Kat worked on surviving life in the swamp. Her cloak became her blanket, her bed, her protection from the rain. Petticoats ripped served as bandages, a large swath wrapped around her growing scavenged possessions creating a bundle.
As time passed she became adept at navigating the bog. Starting fires, finding shelter, eating what she could find became the norm. The lavish life of the castle where her every whim was indulged seemed like a fairy tale. Some nights under the stars she'd awaken, remembering a dream that was so real she was licking her finger to savor the delicacy that melted in her mouth. The music and laughter was replaced by the sounds of crickets and slow breeze wafting through the leaves.
What a beautiful experience that life once was. Every need met, but at what price she'd ponder when her stomach was full. During meager times she'd bewail her fate wondering how much longer she was expected manage in such a foreign unforgiving land.
Days turned to weeks leading to months. Her court clothes were long gone. What was sturdy replaced what was delicate. She walked with an awareness of what she had to do. The delicate creature of whimsy was transformed to a woman grudgingly capable of meeting her needs. At lonely, miserable times she'd mourn the luxuries, what she wanted or missed from her previous life.
Happiness is learned. Happiness is like your shadow. It is beside you without you even knowing it. Happiness cannot be found, it is felt. Happiness, contentment comes from acceptance, clearing the cobwebs and clutter. What were once basic necessities of her privileged life became survive impediments to living.
She wondered if she'd ever go back to that life if given a chance. It was easy, the gilding golden. At what price is freedom, at what price is expression, at what price is knowing the feel of the ground beneath your feet? What is the security of privilege if you are all alone and dependent on others?
Kat hated the bog, peeved that fate had dumped her in a harsher environment. She took comfort in learning to survive. Though she sloshed, tripped and was occasionally stuck in the thick mud, Kat kept searching for a way out.
In time she found the ground grew firmer, the breeze beautifully scented. She found herself in a new land. Kat was dirty, filthy with scraps and scratches, looking more like a beggar than her former beauty. A hot house delicate blossom replaced by a hardy flower she started her new path, knowing what she needed to fully live.
