Safe Places
Hiding Place: a noun
a safe place where you hide yourself or something or something that you do not want other people to find.
No matter what age we are, I believe we all need a “safe place,” a place of refuge. A place where we can be alone and recharge. A place where we can think, pray, or meditate “safe” from the daily interruptions in life. I have such a place right outside my office door. Not always, but many times when I go out there, I will ask my husband, Rick, not to disturb me, which he honors, giving me some “alone” time.
When I was a little girl, I had a “safe place” too. It was behind the living room drapes. Now, I’m absolutely certain everyone knew where I was; I’m sure my little feet stuck out below the drapes and my body made a bulge in the drapery fabric. But I also remember my mom walking into the room, calling my name, looking for me. So, as far as I knew, I was hidden.
Whether we have children or grandchildren, I think we all want to think that there is a little bit of ourselves in them. Perhaps in the way they look, talk, laugh, or play.
We know that our 3-year-old grandson, Owen, has a lot of both his dad and his granddad in him; we see that in his dry sense of humor and his mischevious nature.
This week I saw that Owen does have a little of me in him too! Even at 3, he is already experimenting and finding his “safe” place. The place where no one can find him… especially right before bedtime.
Do YOU have a safe place? Will you share your story or post a picture? Perhaps you will inspire someone else in their journey to find that special place of refuge!
P.S. About 5 hours after I published this post, my son sent me 2 more pictures. Seems Owen is still trying to find his “safe place.”
Perhaps the car might be a better “safe” place?
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I bet ” safe place” has taken on a whole new meaning this week as your community reaches out to help the Mariposa evacuees. The fire is heading north and so the Toulumne County networks are starting to help out. It always humbles me to see how our community reaches out to others. I guess we realize it could be us but for the will of God. This is why I love living in the foothills. Stay safe.
You’re right. My husband and I had actually planned to go to Mariposa on Monday to pick up some furniture we had purchased there, but decided, because of the fires, to stay off the roads. The town was evacuated at 1:00 PM, which is the time we had planned to get there. Yes, it is very heartwarming to see the local communities reach out and help.
There was a stretch of time, around when I was in college, when my safe place was to go out on a long walk. I would sort out my emotional “churnings” and by the time I returned, the churnings were gone.
Seems I have always needed my “safe place.” When my children were little and I needed some TA (time alone) I would tell them how I needed TA and always made sure to tell them that they were such good kids and they had not done anything wrong; it was just me–not them, and how sometimes grown-ups just need a little time for themselves. Then I would tell them I was going into the bathroom for 5 to 10 minutes and asked them not to disturb me or ask a question until I came out. They were so cute and never called into me, however, my daughter use to sit just outside the door and say over and over again “I wonder how much longer 5 minutes will be over.” She was so cute how could I ever get upset with that. Now I find myself doing the same thing when I have both my grandkids here for a couple of days. They are just as cute as their mother was–and so good.
The photo of Owen headless, while being under his chair, gave me such a laugh tonight. You already have your journaling all done. Just use what you said in your email. Great photo. Thanks for sharing it.