If it's a safe option for me now,
I close my eyes.
I take a deep breath in through my nose and I let the air go.
I take another deep breath in through my nose and let all the air go.
I take a third deep breath in,
I fill all my body with air and I let all the air go through the mouth slowly but with power.
I pick a day from my life.
It's a regular day.
I don't do much,
Nothing special happens but nothing bad happens either.
If that day was a sketch,
If that day was a page in a sketchbook,
In an art journal,
How would it look like?
It could have sketches from my coffee mug,
From what I ate that day,
From something I see every day on my way to work.
It could be a sketch of my car,
A sketch of my water bottle,
A sketch from the coffee soap I go every morning or a sketch of my kid's school backpack.
How would a regular day look like on the sketchbook in my head?
I take some time to form that picture,
To see it in my mind and I try to see everything as a sketch in my head,
As a drawing or as a painting but more made up,
Not like a photo.
Even if the sketch is realistic,
I can tell it's a sketch.
I take another deep breath in and as I breathe out,
I'm alone on the next page of my sketchbook.
This is my happy place,
My ideal day.
How would that look like?
Am I alone?
Am I with someone?
Do I see a sketch of that someone?
Do I see a sketch of myself?
Where am I?
How do I look?
What do I see around me?
How do I feel?
What kind of sketch would show how I feel?
I take a deep breath in and I think about a sketch of something I can see,
There in my happy place,
In my mental vacation.
Then I think a sketch of something I can smell,
Maybe coconut sun cream,
Anyone?
No,
Just me?
Then I think of a sketch of something I can hear.
For music it can be a sketch of notes dancing around,
Or a retro radio,
Or a record player.
For voices it can be an open mouth like in the middle of talking.
I let my mind be creative.
I think about the sketches.
They instantly come to mind.
I don't need to push my mind,
Myself,
My head.
I think of a sketch of something I can touch.
Then I think of a sketch of something I can taste.
I'm fully there.
I see the sketches and I can feel how it feels in my vacation,
Even if it's in my head.
I can still feel it.
The same way I feel a painful memory,
Exactly that way I can feel my mental vacation.
It can be just made up.
It can be a place I've never been to.
It can be a place I've always wanted to be.
Or it can be a memory.
It can be a childhood memory.
It can be a memory of having the time of my life.
There are no restrictions.
It's my mental vacation.
I can do whatever I want.
I take a deep breath in.
And as I breathe out I think about those sketches of my mental vacation.
I think for a moment.
Can I smell that smell where I am right now?
Can I taste that taste?
In other words,
What's the shortest way to my happy place?
