Happy Place

Everyone has a Happy Place whether they consciously recognize it or not. It is a place you go to when you are sad, depressed, lonely, angry or any combination of the above. You go to this place and suddenly things don't look so bad. You gather your strength to put a positive spin on things and go back and face your challenges head on. At least that is how it works for me.

The Happy Place can be an actual place, a mental state, a memory or sometimes even a person. I have had different Happy Places for each phase of my life. As a kid on Rowley Street, it was sitting in the tree in the front yard. As a teenager on Miami Avenue, it was the swings at Chaffee. At Uconn, it was Fairfield Hall room 109. In Boston, it was the Trident Bookstore on Newberry Street.

It came to my attention yesterday that I did not have a Happy Place in my current dwelling when I needed one most. As I sat there amid the piles of bills, resumes, cover letters, lawyers notices, bridesmaid dresses, stamping feet and accident reports, I began to feel trapped and overwhelmed. The word "Failure" was illuminated in my mind like a giant neon sign. I need to go somewhere else, anywhere else. So I picked up my keys, turned off my cell phone and headed to my car to escape my problems with no clear destination in mind.

Since it was a beautiful day, I opened the sunroof, blasted the stereo and hit the highway. It wasn't until I had driven for about 20 minutes that I realized where I was subconsciously heading. A place which always seems to calm my nerves and soothe my soul. I was heading for the beach.

The beach has always been one of my favorite places. The sound of the waves, the cool salty breeze, the smell...It never fails to relax me. As I sat there on the sand and looked out at the water, I felt myself letting go of all the stress, self doubt, fear and other erratic behavior I had been exhibiting lately. I could simply be me.

The cold forced me to leave before I was emotionally ready to head home, so I drove a little further down the road to Roger's Lake. My grandparents owned a house on the lake and I used to spend almost every weekend there as a child. As I drove by the Hallmark Ice Cream store and the Bee and Thistle Inn, I was instantly transported back to a happier time.

The little country store we used to buy candy at had been replaced by a much fancier, updated version of its former self. I could see the little island with the Tarzan swing on it that we used to row out to. I drove by the old house and remembered the lip synching concerts we gave and the beauty pageants we would hold. Mostly I remembered spending time here with my family. And it made me smile for the first time that day.

As I hit the road with Mr. Buble ironically crooning his hit song 'Home,' it suddenly occurred to me why I hadn't identified a Happy Place since moving back home. My Happy Place is my family. Since none of them were around, I was forced to seek my solace elsewhere. But I still found myself seeking out something familiar, something that reminded me of them.

When I arrived back home, the myriad of problems was still there waiting for me. But now I felt that I was in a much better place to start tackling them. I felt rejuvenated, stronger and ready to face it. With my family at my back, I can handle anything.