The Place I Go To When I 'Run Away' | Life Love and Hiccups: The Place I Go To When I 'Run Away'
Life Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and Hiccups

Tuesday 16 September 2014

The Place I Go To When I 'Run Away'

Pin It

Everyone has that special place they go to when they are 'running away from home'... don't they?

When I was a wee youngen, in my pre-child days, it was this beach that I would go to when I wanted to hang out with my friends or when I just needed some space to think.

This place has an uncanny way of soothing me. It's like some hippy trippy anaesthetic balm for a noisy mind.

I feel so significant here, but in a good way though - you know?

When I stand and watch the waves pound and the clouds rumble along the horizon, I can't help but feel fabulously insignificant compared to all of it. It is that feeling that holds the power to make all the nonsense and noise in my head go quiet... at least for a little while, which is the whole point of running away really.

This beach also happens to be the exact place that I first met my hubby. I was seventeen and I rocked up to the beach with a friend in her little Barina. He was standing shirtless on the roof of a panel van looking at the surf and I turned to my girlfriend and said "There's my future husband right there. I'm going to marry him".

No really!

Alright I know it's mildly perverted that I picked my future soul mate based on his hunky shirtless torso, but it is a freakishly true story.

We hung here when we were going out, and lived here when we first moved in together and got married.

We moved a suburb away for a little while before returning to an apartment in the beachside village when we had our first child.

There are so many precious memories ingrained in the sand here that it's no wonder really that I have such a connection with it.

Once the kids came along, I had to fine somewhere a little closer to home to escape to when I needed to breathe... closer as in like IN our home. And so I used to hide in the bathroom or the walk in robe.

No matter how well I hid, they always managed to find me. They were like little sniffer dogs that went from room to room hunting me down and then when they found me I'd get the "Whatcha doing Mum? Mum? MUM? Whatcha doing in here?" fired at me like boom boom boom, with no break for air in between.

Once the kids reached the age where they weren't hanging on to my legs anymore as I tried to go out the front door, I managed to reconnect with my special place again.

I love that whilst we no longer live right here, we still live close enough that I can continue to use it as my 'running away' place when I need to think... or not think. I can come here whenever I need the surf's hum to wash over me and drown out any noise in my head. .

Everyone needs a special place they can escape to.

Where do you run away to when you need a time out?