Oh my gosh.
The kids are DRI. VING. ME. CRA. ZY.
Fussy, teething, cranky, impatient little munchkins complaining to me, at me, ON me at the same time all morning long. And I’ve hit my limit. Luke- you’re going into your crib for an early nap. See ya! And Lyla- please hush and just watch some Doc McStuffins.
Ahhhh… Now I can sit down and pull my hair out in peace.
Where should I get some encouragement?
Doc McStuffins is singing in the background, “I feel better, so much better!” No thanks. Headphones go on.
Oh, I know. Genius! I’ll go to my “safe place.”
When I was dealing with anxiety and having trouble breathing in June, my counselor recommended I use a strong memory of an awesome place to go to in my mind. It totally works. Here, I’ll describe it for you so you can go there with me:
San Juan Island, Washington
Step onto the deck and down into the spongy green grass
Walk across the yard towards the wall of giant fir trees, a bay of water peeking through the trunks
A large golden eagle, silhouetted against the pale sky, eyes me and then swoops down and away with a screech
My heart pounds because I’ve never seen a bird so large, and I feel almost frightened
I reach the edge of the yard, the edge of the land, and the bay spreads out before me, serene and still
I’m at a 15 foot drop off, but I have a wooden staircase to escort me down to the small, rocky beach
I pause at the top, with my hand on the peeling and faded red rail
The air is cool on my skin, no breeze- it just surrounds me softly, and I hover in the moment with it
I take in the view
Three boats sleep in the water
Pink, pale orange, and blue gently mingle in the sky and again in the water, a painting that deserves to be shown off twice
There is no movement but I can feel the life, the energy that throbs
A bald eagle screeches and its mate echoes its call across the bay
I slowly descend the stairs, afraid I might interrupt their conversation
Are they talking about me or their dinner of fish?
Rocks and clam shells crunch under my feet as I make my way to the ring of Adirondack chairs that surround a fire pit
I smell the remnants of our fire from the night before, smoky, rich, and organic despite its human origin
I feel speechless and honored to witness this tapestry of life slowly weaving itself together here
The strap of a pair of binoculars pulls heavily on my neck
I lift them to my eyes and scan the far tree line
Ah- there they are- the pair of bald eagles
Wait- there’s another, oh and one more, and to the right I spy two more white heads
That makes six total that I see at this current moment
They are my favorite part of Washington
They play and hunt and screech and soar
They are wild and free
I smile with them
There. I feel better. Do you like my memory? Feel free to make it your own, and you can smile with us.