Nathan Hale
12/14/06
Urban Inventions
Refuge
We all have it. It’s a part of everyday life and it wears down on us. The strain is what wears down on us slowly whittling away years of our lives. This being the case, why are we not already dead? The answer is relaxation, try it. No really, right now, put down this paper, close your eyes and take a deep breath in through your nose, hold it for eleven seconds, now slowly and as quietly as possible exhale through your mouth. Did you feel your shoulders drop? That’s a lot of tension you just let go of. Believe it or not you’ve been carrying with you all day. We should take thirty second out of our day every chance we get to do this because we need to relax or unwind. This is an example of a refuge in its simplest form. Refuge is known as many different things; retreat, vacation, or break. The list goes on and on. We live such high anxiety lives that we need to take breaks periodically. The real question is how? There’s a place in everyone’s fantasy that they long to visit the mountains, a room in a relative’s house, a tropical island. These places are individual and beautiful. And just like beauty, it’s in the eye of the beholder as to what their refuge is I have many refuges, some real and some imaginary. For example, one of my imaginary refuges is an island in the middle of a large lake. But this is no ordinary lake; it’s located on top of and in the middle of a volcano’s crater. And when I sit on my beach house’s porch, looking out at the sun set, it looks as though the world ends because the water pours off of the rim of the volcano. The reflection of the sun dances on the water while I sit, playing the guitar, and serenading my equally beautiful girlfriend Emily. Off in the faint distance is the town just a hang glide trip away and beyond that lays a whole range of volcanoes with lakes in their craters, my neighbors. There the weather is always sunny, about 82 degrees. And the island’s terrain consists of a dense jungle with exotic creatures. My favorite part of the island is the north shore because there, a waterfall cascades down from the heavens and creates killer waves to surf on but which never threaten my home. The water is a perfect 78 degrees. My favorite time of day on the island is night. When the moon is out Emily and I take long walks on the beaches and look out at the moon. During the afternoon we cuddle up in a hammock under palm trees in the shade only twenty feet from the rippling water. I truly am the happiest man in the world when I’m here. Unfortunately, I can’t actually go here. No one can, but it’s a mental vacation that I can take whenever I want. In reality I need a place I can actually go to enjoy myself and get away from the chaos. My problem is I live in Seattle and it’s a long drive to the nearest beach. I live in Ballard, a small fishing community a little ways out. To describe Ballard you can think of it like, if Seattle were a state then Ballard would be the small town where everyone knows everyone. One day we discovered through a neighbor that Ballard has its own beach just a five minute drive away. I immediately went down to see if it was real and what I found was breathtaking. It was one of the last warm fall days of the year and all the trees had turned orange and yellow. The sun was half an hour from setting and I was staying to watch it. I easily found free parking and began my walk down a paved trail covered with sand. The people there grabbed my attention first. They were all from different walks of life, smiling and cheerful like in a Viagra commercial. There was a single mom playing in the sand with her daughter. Then over by some picnic tables were two gentlemen talking politics. As I walked down the path I looked out and saw the ocean only one-hundred feet cross the sandy beach. I followed the path curious as to where it would lead me and I came upon a snack shed that operates during the summer. I turned west to look once more at the ocean and found fire pits placed strategically along the beach. Then I turned back to the path where something caught my eye, something I had only ever read about. A small patch of tall narrow trees grew just off the path. I stepped off the path to investigate and found the trees’ bark to be like paper. There were no branches until the top of the trees and the trunks grew out of the ground like snakes. Then I looked down and saw the grass growing at my feet and I knew I was amidst my own mini jungle. Through the exotic trees I saw a great green field where a man was playing fetch with his dog. There was a path that bordered the oval shaped field and I realized it was a dirt jogging track. I followed the track for a while until I found a rabbit trail to take instead. The trail led me over a little hill and I saw the ocean again and to my right were mini sand dunes. At this point I could not suppress my joy and I began laughing out loud at the sand. I approached the water deciding to follow the ocean for a change. There were seashells of every shape and size scattered along the shoreline. As I lifted my head I suddenly found myself face to face with a cyclone fence and posted on it was a death certificate and pictures of a girl. She had died on the train tracks just yards away and this was her memorial. I sat down on a rock and thought for a while. How peaceful and tranquil this place was. This girl has it good, I thought, because if anyone ever has, she was surely resting in peace. After reflecting I continued my journey and found a large duck pond with beavers and ducks and frogs. I was fascinated how the terrain changed so quickly. Here you could really enjoy it all! I watched as young couples fed the ducks pieces of bread from a bag. I made my way back to my motorcycle and drove home. I thought, my mind is made up, this is my real life refuge and I am going to visit here as often as possible. Now every time the sun is out and I’m driving back home on highway 99, just before I reach the bridge I look up and see the long stretch of road ahead, and I think maybe I could stop by for just a few minutes, it’s a nice day and I don’t have anywhere else to be. So I do. I visit as often as I possibly can. I love my refuges, they keep me going. Even when I am too busy to visit them physically, I can still go there in my head. I close my eyes and focus on the details of my safe place, and a feeling of warmth and wholeness fills my soul. We all need a refuge for our day to day life. Make a pact with me; we’ll go there once a day either in our heads or in real life. We’ll go there and find peace.