My first special place was the forest behind the house where I grew up.
It was a dense forest with trails and hills. After walking for a few minutes, you could no longer see the houses and felt like there were none around for miles. I felt like it was my second home, just for me.
After school, I would take our dog for a long walk and have a special place to sit and have a snack.
One day, I came home from school and called the dog, only to realise that bulldozers were clearing the land behind our house. There was only a skeleton left of the forest.
I was sad for a week.
Each day, I would come home to fewer and fewer trees.
Where would we go now?
โThis is going to suckโ, I thought.
It was a loss that my 12-year-old brain had a hard time getting used to.
When I think of this period, I think of Joseph Cambell's idea of a 'Bliss Station' described in his book The Power of Myth (highly recommended)
He describes a Bliss station in this way:
๐ ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฎ, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ข ๐ค๐ฆ๐ณ๐ต๐ข๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ข๐บ, ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ช๐ฏ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ธ๐ด๐ฑ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ง๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ด ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐บ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐บ ๐ฐ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ต๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ. ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ด ๐ข ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ด๐ช๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ญ๐บ ๐ฆ๐น๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ต๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ. ๐๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ช๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ค๐ณ๐ฆ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ท๐ฆ ๐ช๐ฏ๐ค๐ถ๐ฃ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ. ๐๐ต ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฎ๐ข๐บ ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ด ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ. ๐๐ถ๐ต ๐ช๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ข ๐ด๐ข๐ค๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฑ๐ญ๐ข๐ค๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ถ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ช๐ต, ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต๐ถ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ๐บ ๐ธ๐ช๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏ.
A Bliss Station is a special place or time where we disconnect from the world and reconnect with ourselves. It doesn't have to be fancy, but it needs to be yours.
The place I visit most frequently now is simple but powerful: the kitchen in my apartment in Stockholm. It looks out onto our balcony and the rich colours of the neighbouring properties.
It is early before the world has gotten up and started to move around, and things are silent. I have just woken up, and my thoughts are sharp and un-disturbed by the digital noise of my life.
My dog Abbe snores gently in his bed nearby (dogs are important to me in such places). This clarity gives me a chance to write and think freely.
It is healthiest to make a daily appointment to disconnect from the world and connect with ourselves and who we are.
It is not important to focus on the exact time or place but to create a routine that allows the real you to emerge.
Most of the bliss stations in my life have found me - museums, parks, libraries and islands.
Over time, I realised that the refuge wasn't a specific place, but something I had with me the entire time.
All I had to do was open my eyes use what I had in front of me.
๐๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ช๐ด ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ฃ๐ญ๐ช๐ด๐ด ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ? Campbell asked.
๐ ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ต๐ณ๐บ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ช๐ต.