Book in hand, mind calm and clear, I order my usual: a lavender cappuccino.
I take my usual seat at my usual coffee shop. I sink into my seat by the window, the smell of coffee comforting and the atmosphere warm with happiness. This is where I come when I need to be productive or when I need to relax; when I want to journal or read without distraction; when I want to be away from the world and escape from the daily monotonies I face in school and at work. This is one of my safe places – the coffee shop by my home, where I feel the most at home.
I have three.
Three spaces, places where I feel calm and clear, productive and creative, happy and at peace. Three places to run to when I’m feeling down, stressed, anxious, creative, happy or sad. Three places I am lucky to have; three places I am happy to dub my “safe spaces.”
One of these places is the coffee shop by my home, a lakeside hub of creativity situated next to a beautiful little park where food trucks are present every Thursday, live jazz music is heard, and ice cream and snacks are sold. I have yet to find a place where I feel so relaxed and yet so creative as when I am seated in my booth at my coffee shop.
My second is my room. Cliché as it may be, my room is another safe haven on my list. The walls are plastered with canvases, photographs, and doodles I’ve done; pictures of my little sister and I dressed in Halloween costumes at the ripened age of eight and ten are taped to my mirror. I light my favorite candles as soon as I enter the room, greeting my succulents and sunflowers with a smile, jumping into bed and turning on my computer to write/lounging and beginning a new book/talking to my best friends on the phone/doing whatever my heart desires. My room is where I feel safe and, finally, like myself. This place, littered with items that I love and cherish, books that I have read time and time again, pictures of those I adore, is where I feel most at peace with myself. This is where I feel the most like me.
My third safe space may be my favorite place to be: nestled in my mother’s arms. In high school, I took my mother’s hugs for granted. I saw her every single day; it didn’t seem spectacular or special when she wrapped her arms around me at the end of a long week. Now, I crave her warmth, the tenderness of her strong arms around me.The comfort I feel amidst my mother’s kind grip reminds me of when I was small enough to fit in her lap, where I would curl up like a cat and listen to her read from her weathered and worn Bible. The sense of nostalgia I feel whenever I burrow my head to her chest beats even the feeling of freshly washed sheets on my skin. She left to return home from a short visit to Tallahassee just a few days ago, but I am already impatient to return to her arms, the safest space there is.
These are my safe spaces: my coffee shop, my room, my mother’s arms.
I cannot speak enough of the importance of having a place to run to when things get hard. Whether that be your local supermarket - where you buy your comfort food - or you best friends’ house, where you cuddle with her and cry with her; whether it’s your workplace or your bedroom, your mother’s arm or your favorite bookstore. Having a safe place is important in the grand scheme of things. If you have nowhere to go where you feel calm, creative, collected, and content, what will you do? Your stress will hang onto you heavily, like a jacket that has pockets full of pebbles. Do not allow the hardships in life to cling to you. I urge you to shake off the hardships and let yourself relax. I urge you to find yourself, and to find yourself in a place or a person with whom or where you feel comforted and warm, free of worry and care. A place where your creative juices flow freely, a place where you are productive and positive and happy, oh, so happy. I encourage you to go now and find your safe space and be. Simply be.
