Happy Place

The wind brushes over my skin like the gentle caress of a lover.

I sit on sacred ground, blessed by the worms that have tilled the soil, the sun that blows kisses of warmth upon it, the rain that washes away impurity. The grass is not soft or manicured, but raw and honest in its being. It still bestows its generosity in shelter for the smallest creatures while carpeting the ground for me, even if I am not truly worthy of its selflessness.

The birds sing the most beautiful song—a jubilant exaltation that isn’t for me. This symphony I bear witness to sings the culture of flight, and I am so lucky to be in this place.

I lay back and notice. First, the warmth and light that radiates around me. The storm clouds in the distance chasing away that delicate spring heat, determined to do its part in nourishing this expanse of green. The fragrance of the air, a verdant oasis of leaves, woods, and petals, offering their aromatic gifts to the Earth. The coolness of the dense terrain beneath me, reaching up to war with the opposing calefaction in my soft flesh.

I turn my attention within. The highway of thoughts I brought with me resembles more of a racetrack than a road fit for motorist families. What am I even thinking? As I lay cradled by the natural world around me, my mind begins to slow to match the pace of this peaceful life. The nerves in my body breathe a heavy sigh and begin to rest, taking comfort in the break from battle. How have I forgotten that this is what life is meant to be?

Falling deeper into my own abyss, I sink into the black. I seek nothingness—not the absence of all, but the presence of nothing. My mind comes to a near halt, arresting its prior flurry as I find the center. I settle into a chair in the darkness that has both always and never been, and I see not with my human eyes, but with my eternal soul.

A structure appears before me, illuminated in a way I do not understand or question. The quiet glow whispers to me, beckoning me to come near. My intuition calls this a temple, one built only for me in this moment, with stairs that spiral around its four sides and lead to a place I cannot see. Something compels me to begin to climb. I notice there is no burn in my legs or labored breathing from the effort. The presence in this place wraps me in comfort and carries me gently up the stairs while leaving my will intact. Fear is absent. Apprehension doesn’t exist. Anxiety is as distant as the beginning of time. My trust has been earned without need for demonstration; I know this place is Good.

Reaching the summit, everything outside of this place and this moment has vanished. I find that the glow I had seen and heard before seems to emanate from this final destination. Upon closer consideration, I realize a warm fulfilling sensation swells in me. It is me. Everything magical here, I am. My identity is the core from which all originates. This deep-seated knowing washes over me and strengthens what fills me until I feel I am bursting at the seams with brightness. What is blinding me most of all is the inalienable truth that all of the beauty soaking into and seeping out of me is contained within, and no one can take steal it away.

I am love. I am joy. I am peace. I am nirvana.

Thank you, me.