Oh, sweet escape.
If I took a good look at my life choices up to this point, I’ve often been running toward an escape of some kind. And not necessarily in a bad way: In NY I couldn’t wait to move to NC (which turned to GA when I got engaged). In GA I looked forward to a new adventure. In OH I couldn’t wait to get to Japan. In Japan I was good… no need to chase an escape. My heart was home, I guess. Back in OH I just wanted out. Now I’m in NC, my mind’s escape from 15 years old until I left for Savannah at 21 years old. (I lived in Western New York; it gets very cold and very snowy). But even in Savannah I kept my postcard of Wrightsville Beach pinned to high-traffic areas, whether at my desk or on my fridge, because it represented freedom for me.
My escape has always been (and will most likely always be) the ocean. It tugs at my heart no matter where I am, and offers a solace no other experience or entity or relationship can. It’s God’s way of breathing new life into my soul. And when I think “Escape” (and because I’m also a tad big claustrophobic, I think of it often) I think of breathing a deep, long-held breath. And when I’m at the ocean, that’s what I do:
Other Escapes for you:
grandparentsplus2 – Escape from Winter = agreed!
Waiting on a word – For everyone who has ever done more than 1 load of laundry in a day (I have three waiting as I type this)…
Old Woman on a Bicycle – Because I hope to someday traipse through the places she photographs
I blog it as a I see it – Wildfire
skfoto – California!