Finding My Happy Place

Let me just start this post by saying that my house smells like just baked cookies  – snickerdoodles to be exact.  My grandson’s favorite cookie.  I put Heath Bar bits in them to take them “over the top. ”  I’ve often wondered where that phrase comes from?

 “Going over the top“, a military phrase derived from the trench warfare of the First World War. – Wikipedia

Media has been saturated with comment or criticism on what seems every breath that the big news makers take.  In this season of “silent night,” “all is calm,” and “how still we see thee lie” nothing about it is silent, calm, or still.  Authority is being abused in truth at Standing Rock, and in theory by our highest leaders.  And I want off this ride.  I want to go over to my happy place.  Just for a little while.  Just long enough.

When September 11th happened to the world I was working for the New York State Department of Corrections in their central fiscal office.  I had access at a key stroke to huge funds to move and spend where ever they were needed to provide whatever was needed during this monstrous tragedy.   My very first response was to surround myself with family.  To keep them close and closer and to clean house – literally.  I sat in a chair with my daughter on my lap until I couldn’t sit still anymore.  And then in defense of the helplessness I felt I cleaned my house top to bottom.  That was my happy place.

And then I went back to work and was plummeted with the calls for urgent response and emergency supplies, and news reports of death and darkness.  And I remember a few days afterward just lying spread eagle in the grass on my back in the yard.  I felt Mother Earth absorb my grief and the grief of so many others.  I felt the sun’s warmth on my face and deep into my soul and I was renewed to go back into the world and do what I could all over again amidst the reports of death and darkness.  I hadn’t cried, or screamed profanities, or ranted and blamed, or rioted.  I just kept going in and out of my happy place, somehow renewed.

And why would I compare what is happening in my world now with 9/11?  I am most certainly as helpless today as I was back then.  But I cannot seem to find my way to my happy place. To find that recharge and renewal.  There are no cookie crumbs to follow.  No candle light at the end of the tunnel.  That wave of unity that I felt with my fellow man in the aftermath of 9/11 has not happened.  As a Nation we have lost our purpose.  We are a shattered people.   This too is a great tragedy.

Weeks after 9/11 the truth of it finally came home.  I was at work, a seemingly normal day and suddenly I started sobbing and could not stop.  My boss escorted me to a more private place, gave me a box of tissues and a closed door and I cried for three hours.  Heart wrenching, soul deep keening for the loss of all those lives and the sorrow for those that are left to carry on.

Now I fear the future for so many, my children and my grandchildren, who have so much life ahead of them. So many lives will be impacted by the decisions that our leaders make in the coming days.  I used to be excited for the prospect of the future but right now I am just afraid.

I thought I had my happy place secure, locked in and well stocked.  Seriously, I have a message on my cell phone with my 4 year plan on it.  Call me:  518-322-5266.  Chances are if I don’t recognize your number I won’t pick up and you can listen to my game plan.  But I have discovered that for some reason I am caught in a limbo, unable to move forward or even for a little while into my happy place.

I know that it is there. Waiting for me to find my way via whatever avenue I stumble upon.  And I will recharge and get back to the game plan.  There are letters to write and Facts vs. Fictions to decipher and sort.  And, of course there are cookies to bake, dogs to walk, and family to hug.  Perhaps there is how my path must lend – over the river and through the woods.  Trust the horse.