The minute she enters the house, she hears her grandmother on the phone. Thank God. She’s in no mood to recount the day’s events, and her grandmother is too attuned to her when she’s on the verge of an emotional breakdown.
Slipping past unnoticed, she hurries up the stairs and into her room.
Gently closing the door behind her, she flings her book bag on the bed and flops beside it. Then, pulling her phone out of her pocket, she turns it off and shoves it under her pillow for later.
She’s finally here, in her room, safe and sound.
Safe and sound from a horde of zombies dragging themselves down her street towards her house, a ferocious tornado spinning in her direction, or maybe her nosy next-door neighbor, Karen?
No, I’m not talking about that kind of safe. I’m talking about the type of safe that’s like a warm-down comforter straight out of the dryer. When wrapped around you, the one makes you feel emotionally safe and secure. Makes you feel happy.
She’s in her room, her happy place.
For her, it’s always been her room, her sanctuary. For her friend Liam it’s his childhood basement playroom still stocked with enough Legos to help him buy his first car. For her friend Iris it’s an old tree house in her backyard that’s stood the test of time, even two hurricanes.
These are their happy places. The places that give them respite from the challenges of the outside world. That gives them a place to think, possibly even dream.
A happy place you love: if you don’t have one, find one.
Until next time-
D