Take a Moment

If you're like me, the last six months have been crazy scary. You know what's been happening around the world, so I won't go into it. No matter what I did to keep my spirits up, turning off the news, stopping my RSS feed from MSNBC, and exercising (yes, you read that correctly), I'd still found myself heading toward a funk. For those wondering what funk means: 2) a dejected mood (1735-45) per Dictionary.com.

On a CD about thinking positive, the narrator tells me whenever I start to feel that way, I should think about something that makes me happy. It can be my children, a favorite pet, a special day or whatever you believe will pull you from the edge and keep you on an even keel. I love my kids, but they're grown and I get sad because I miss them. I see one every day as she works with me and the other, I see every other weekend, but it's not the same. All my pets are gone or dead, and with the way Steve and I love to travel, I don't foresee us getting one for many years. Well, you can see how it's going.

So I told myself I had to have something that would make me chill (youthful slang here, might be out of date now though). I couldn't think of anything until last week. Friday was a rough day and I felt my blood pressure hit the roof to the point it scared me. I wasn't mad but upset about a couple things. Anyway, I knew I needed to calm down. So while I listened to the CD again on the way home, it came to me.

When my maternal grandmother was still alive, she owned a home with a wrap around porch on three sides. In the front, she had several white rocking chairs and a wooden swing. From the time I was five or six when she and my granddad moved there and whenever I visited and the weather permitted, I would sit on that swing. Grandmother taught me how to sew and cross stitch on that swing. My cousins and I would giggle until we cried while on that swing. I'd watched rain pour from the eaves while snuggled up to the pillows and reading on that swing. I'd ate homemade ice cream from hand churn buckets while on that swing. I'd listened to Northern Bobwhites and swatted at flies while sitting on that swing. My mom has a dozen pictures of me sitting in that swing.

So Friday, I sat on my couch and closed my eyes, imagining myself sitting on that swing. It was a beautiful clear day. Through my memories I looked at the gray painted board beneath my feet, the front entrance with the dark screen door, and the line of rocking chairs. I smelled the dust from the dirt road and the newly mowed grass. Grandmother's flowers were in full bloom and the bees were buzzing. I was there. I was a preteen again with little to no cares enjoying the peace and quiet.

I actually felt my blood pressure drop. My flushed face cooled off. The high strung feeling melted away. I had found my special place.

What's your special place/memory to help you forget your worries, to mellow?