In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Places.”

My face crinkles up when faced with the question “Beach, Mountain, or Forest?”. I immediately think of my happy place and how hard it is for me to get there.

First you have to go through some mountains. I have never really been hiking so I have no clue why I would require hiking to get to my happy place. But alas there is some hiking involved. I think it has something to do with getting to the top and being able to glance down at the problems that I am leaving behind. They look smaller from up there.

Then you get to go down the mountain. Too much like exercise but the view of the top of the clouds is awesome and starts to bring about the notion of peace. Once at the bottom I am walking through a forest. Tall trees shading me from the sun. They sort of feel like a nice warm hug.

Finally I get to the gazebo, fully equipped with a daybed swing. That swing is important because I am exhausted. I get to nap with a warm breeze blowing. When I wake up I can walk out to the water. This isn’t the beach. I am not a fan of all that sand. This is a huge lake, surrounded by grass and large rocks. I can sit on a rock or in the grass and just stare out at the water. I can forget about all the things that are troubling me and simply relax.

I keep thinking that it shouldn’t be so hard for me to get there. But something keeps telling me that it is all about the process.

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