It feels like a while since I went to watch a sunrise. A lot had been going on in my life for the past number of weeks, so I had allowed myself to drift away from those early morning events unintentionally.
That thought just occurred to me as I fell out of bed this morning around 4:45 and began my morning routine just a little early. With the indoor kitties fed and then the office crew below released and fed, my first cup of coffee was brewing and it was only 5:30.
Sunrise was to be just before seven, so I had time to go somewhere if I wanted. With the gurgling sound of the Keurig taking its minute or so to fill my mug with the black stuff, my mind kicked into gear and I decided on Lake Parker.
It wasn’t likely to be anything spectacular (and it turned out not to be), but there was a comfort in my head for taking the short drive and standing on the boat jetty absorbing my first caffeine injection.
So, I found myself at the boat dock before six and the coffee took care of the final cobwebs still occluding my thoughts. I was a little pissed at the smoke pouring from the power plant on the other shoreline, but hey there was nothing I could do about that now.
I took some shots anyway and spoke to a couple of the guys launching boats as they began their own adventures for the day. To each of us on our own journey, the day held its own promise. And for just that one moment our adventures intersected as the skies began to brighten.
Between the smoke opposite me and the commotions beside me, I decided to head away and we bid each other a good day.
I drove down to the half way point on the western shore of the lake to see if perhaps the view from there might have less intrusion from the smokestack. And to a certain extent it did.
There was just the one guy there, legs hanging over the concrete edge to the water, fishing line before him, and a cigarette in his mouth.
We spoke for a few and I rattled off a few more images as the imminent sun cast some red glare across the clouds far away.
We spoke for a few and he explained how he loves to come to this spot. How it is his special place. He had been working a lot recently and he needed to find himself and that is how he ended up here this morning.
I went back to my picture taking and he went back to his silence. After taking a few more shots I drove away again. Nothing spectacular but I hope you enjoy the little selection at the end of the blog.
Driving away, his words about this being his special place ran around in my head and I thought “What is my special place or do I even have one any more?”
I am not sure I do. But I should.
Special places can be a physical place or a place we go to in our minds. A place that gives us serenity and the chance to regroup and plan our next forward move.
With some of the people that I have lost over the past few years, I think that the appearances of grief has robbed many of my hideaways and turned them into something else.
Don’t get me wrong; there are still special places that I go to. Places that have a lot of meaning and places that are in many ways go-to places for certain functionality.
For example, if I need a sunrise or a sunset, I have a list. If I need people or action, I have a list. If I need beauty or creatures, I have a list.
But that is not what I am talking about in this instance.
There are too many sad memories associated with so many of the physical places in my life, that I doubt if I have a special place in any of them.
But most younger folk than me tend to have physical places where memories haven’t yet followed you.
There is a trick I learned only after mine were gone and it is quite simple: Never bring anyone with you to your physical place. Never celebrate or mourn your physical place. Keep that place just for you.
If you can do that, then it will be there waiting for you …. waiting without any heartbreak and happy to hear your thoughts.
When you run out of physical places, it is important to at least come up with a mental place.
Some people find their mental place through meditation. Some people find it through a song. Or a poem. Or even just a singular thought. An outlook on something that is simply yours.
I have lost mine for the moment but I fully expect to find another soon. That’s the wonderful things about mental places. Because they are a place you conjure up in order to be alone, the power to do so lies totally within you.
And if like me, you periodically lose your place, just hang in there. You can find a new one … perhaps a new melody or a scent that takes to where you can be alone. The vehicle itself isn’t particularly important as long as it carries you away from real life every now an then.
Being alone with the world temporarily shut out can be a true source of peace and one that can restore some balance in the midst of the most unbalanced of times.
The power of peace lies within us.
… just a thought.
