The title of my unwritten children’s book is “There is a special place.” I write unwritten, not to be confused with unpublished, because at this stage it is still just an idea I have. It is an idea plus 4 lines plus an earmarked illustrator.
The thought came to me on the treadmill at my neighbourhood gym. As I tried to motivate myself to run the 5km goal I had set for myself in my mind and on the machine, I had to somehow switch off from what lay ahead. Literally in my line of vision were 3 television screens and a not so clean window showing a brick wall and a web covered air conditioning unit. Each screen was broadcasting a different channel – be it morning or breakfast show – the stories were dismal. Those who know me very well, know that digesting bad news first thing in the morning, leaves me with a bitter taste for the rest of the day. And so, that is how this scene, set against the backdrop of a world-wide pandemic and an international border closure, led me to my special place.
I suppose what I created was a version of Zwift or some other virtual application but inside my head. I ran to a place I love, to a place that I know intimately and where I feel safe (despite being one of the crime capitals of the world). I ran past the lighthouse and past the trees that have withstood the wild winds but still stand and reach for the light. Past the sign announcing a new suburb where you get your first view of the mountains, my heart expanding like it does every time I witness their majestic beauty (and unrelated to my running). I ran past the beaches, 1, 2, 3, 4 and more and I felt the breeze and the salt sundried into my skin. I smelled the seaweed permeating sea air which like the smell of the dustbins there, is unreplicated anywhere else I have ever visited. I heard the seagulls and the friendly “Mornings” greetings. I ran past familiar faces that were old and past memories and my history. Somehow, I seemed to see my special place how it is and how it was, simultaneously.
Then suddenly I was cooling down, my speed dropped and I was back trying not to read the badly spelled closed captions on the screen.
I had reached my goal of 5 kilometres or 110005 kilometres if you count reaching my special place.
As borders promise to reopen, I hope to really get there soon. Until then (and for always) I keep my special place in my head and in my heart.
Where is yours?
In My Head 