When I was younger, and something bothered me, I used to write. Hours and hours were spent scrawling my feelings in notebooks and journals until I lost sight of what was bothering me. While I don't have the luxury of endless hours to spend writing now, I still feel the need to reflect on certain things in my life now.

Sometimes, when I need a moment of quiet reflection, to clear my head, to wait until anger dissapates, I head to my local park. It's not grand by any means, but it is well tended, with a beautiful array of flowers. I have a special bench that I like to go to, and listen to the sounds around me.

The rushing water of the fountain in the distance. Birds chirping overhead. People out jogging, their footsteps creating a beat as they pass. Children laughing in the playground, some bit away. The nearby church bell tolling, reminding me that I don't have long here. 

Sometimes, I feel like I would like to live somewhere so vast, with no one around. I enjoy the fleeting solitude, the quiet. I feel at peace.

Here, I can leave my worries and fears at the gate, if only briefly. They are always there, though, waiting for my return to the real world.

A few days ago, between appointments and sun showers, I visited this quiet place of mine. Sitting for a while, I watched the tourists stroll around, stopping here and there to smell the roses. An elderly priest on a bench nearby, reading, lifting his head to greet anyone that passed. A group of children running down the path to the playground, frazzled woman in tow. A dog, chasing a stick. Nothing to worry me, no one to bother me.

This is where I can think rationally, without the distraction of home life. There's no Caelen looking for a treat, or phones ringing, or Tommie asking if I want tea. All there is, is background noise. 

I sit, and I write. I write about what's bothering me, and I think of solutions. Within a couple of minutes, I feel better. And that, I think, is the most important.

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