I’ve just gotten off the chair lift and I can hear my skies as they turn to face the mountain. I have just gone through the clouds to reveal the top of the world. The snow on the mountain meets the clouds in the sky and it looks like I can ski forever and the world is limitless.

much like this photo:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/markybon/97860947/

Now, my ‘happy place’ oddly enough is a golf course in Myrtle Beach. It’s a cool enough morning that I still need my windbreaker, but can shed it when the sun actually starts coming out. The course is on the ocean, so on the back nine I can hear the waves crashing against the shore a faint smell of saltwater in the air. The grass on the fairway, is so soft, I just want to lay down on it and let it tickle my arms and neck. The sun is shining so bright, but it is still chilly and there is still dew on the grass in the shade of the tree where the sun hasn’t quite made it through the leaves…..ok if I don’t get out of my happy place, I’ll never get any work done:)

But the image I usually conjur up is on Lake Michigan around the Michigan-Indiana border. We spent many summers at different places around there either with my grandmother or with friends. The specific time I remember was when I was about 16 and after a long day of sun and swimming just walking the beach in my suit and a long underwear shirt that I loved. I had such a lovely feeling of well-being at that moment, maybe the first time I was conscious of that kind of feeling, so it’s a place I often revisit when I am sad or anxious and need to relax.

What came to mind just now was the steps outside the union at the UW. It’s summer-time, late-July, early-evening. The steps face north, so the sun is going down a little on the left, shimmering on Lake Mendota, a few sail boats in the distance. Beer in hand, my friend and I take in the sights of people and are on the look-out for cute guys (never mind that I was engaged then!). The air is calm, the beer is cold and life is slow and uncomplicated. I’m able to leave behind the toils of O-Chem for a while and just hang out. I would go back if I could.
After all that, I went back to my room, with it’s brown linoleum floors and metal frame bed. I had my staples of bagles, cream cheese and diet coke. And of course, Kosher dill pickles. I’d re-read Dostoyevsky and pretend to study, planning trips downstairs to watch Daria on the TV.
It was pretty happy, despite being by myself. I’m with you there.