Escape

I found a secret place 

where it’s easy to rewind;

I found a secret space

where I can clear my mind —

In the back of my apartment building, there’s a laundry room.  Its stark white cement and cold, sterile tile (I use the term “sterile” lightly as it’s really in need of a good scrubbing) soak in blue light from the large window and sliding glass doors that make up the back wall.

I have an odd relationship with the Sun.  In Florida, she is so close to the Earth that her intense white light turns everything this funny aquamarine, almost as if you are looking through a lens at a cartoon.  It probably has something to do with burning your retina, I don’t know, which sounds a lot less magical, but it is still a neat phenomenon.

I don’t like this light.  I don’t tan; it doesn’t make me happy.  However, this sunlight, filtered through windows and bouncing off of interior walls illuminates even the darkest corners of a room.

Just the same, I don’t like lightbulbs that burn that antique yellow.  I don’t like that light – its jaundiced, faded temperament.  Over this kind of light, I prefer even absolute darkness.

The indirect sunlight absolutely enamors me.  Peaceful waves of blue light flood a room as though it were becoming completely submerged in water.  I can only liken it to a cabin on a boat whose window is below sea level.  This kind of light grants me such tranquility.

Far enough away from the playful voices that drift across Ocean Boulevard, the room of which I write is bathed in near-absolute silence.  When the sliding glass door is pushed open – even on the stillest of days – a clever breeze manages to find its way into this private corner.

It will have something to do with the curve in the structure of the room and the way the entrance and exit don’t exactly line up, but this curious, little wind inevitably becomes trapped in the room.  There she stays, dancing and twirling about, keeping me company as I meditate.

Even the constant, mechanical hum of someone’s air-conditioner adds to the serenity of this magical place.  Complete silence can be a distraction, while this persistent droning, as if in accords with the natural Hum of the Earth whirling on her axis, is like Man’s sneaky way of joining you in chanting Om.  Rather than abandoning a heavy mind to her own devices, this

My peaceful space

sound grasps your hand and walks with you, leading away from your thoughts and emotions and into a place of complete balance.

I have found a magical place.  I have found a space to sit and clear my mind, a place to let go, to bathe in the Earth’s light and let it cleanse me of my heaviness, to practice yoga, to meditate, to imagine, and to step outside Myself.

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