Psyche logo

Safe Space

Go to your happy place

By Ember GrayPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
Like
Safe Space
Photo by Ally Griffin on Unsplash

My chest is tight. The center of my sternum is being pulled in and down inside of me. A dizzying static is quickly creeping through my head, shooting down to my sweaty palms. With unsteady, rushed breathing, I tense my shoulders and grit my teeth. A sense of panic and hopelessness is about to overcome me like a dark heavy rain cloud, ready to soak me to the bone. I shiver in frightened anticipation and look ahead.

I step onto the smooth black pavement. The soft soles of my worn tennis shoes hit the blacktop with a faint thump. I take another step, the cool autumn air moving past me. The breeze reaches high into the trees, swaying the branches of the skinny forest on either side of the path. The canopy of leaves above rustles, allowing the evening sun to peek through the dappled shade. The warm amber light touches my face as I walk, friendly against my skin.

As I continue with my slow pace, I notice my hands are clutching the sleeves of my favorite sweatshirt. The wrists are worn from anxious clenching, slightly tattered and frayed in places. The comfortable material is familiar in my fingers as I rub it to soothe myself. My palms are sweating less, my grip loosening with each step.

The grass to the left and right of the trail is a bright, healthy green. Blades stand tall as if reaching towards the sky for an open hug. A fresh scent wafts from the grass and fallen leaves, warming my nose as I deeply inhale. The tightness in my chest seems to release a little more with each deep breath.

My feet flatten leaves with a satisfying crunch. To my right I hear the quiet tip tap of my dog’s nails as she keeps pace with me. She speeds up occasionally to step off the path into the grass, sniffing and exploring the crisp new surroundings. Ahead of us is my other dog, her long thin legs racing up and down the smooth black surface, her ears perked to the sounds of chirping. Birds hidden within the branches trill their songs as we continue walking.

We make our way to an old bridge. It curves in the middle, connecting the trail over a small stream. As I step onto it, my footfall changes to a slightly heavier, deeper thud. Creaking beams sing below us. I place my hand on the wooden railing, the damp coolness alleviating the remaining pull in my chest. I look over to the stream and can make out ruddy stones in the bottom of the bed. Looking closer, I see the nearly clear blue water stirring fallen leaves as they flutter down and scatter across the surface. My chest begins to open up, like a lotus blooming in the sunlight.

I hear the slight bubbling of the chilled water as it softly beats against the rocks that protrude. The sun is now beaming at a slant through the breaks of leaves and dancing branches, still cozy against my now relaxed face. I lean down and settle myself against a wooden post that holds the railing. Leaning back, the solid yet soft post allows my shoulders to slacken. I stick my legs out in front of me and rest my hands in my lap.

My dogs turn to see me now at their level and both dash over with their thicker click clack steps echoing faintly as they pound across the bridge. When they reach me, one sits at my side, leaning her dense body into mine. The other crawls onto my lap and looks up at me with bright gleaming eyes. My mouth curls into a smile and a lightness rises in my belly, a ball of golden glitter mixed with joy and hope.

Reaching out, I pet them both on the head, their fluffy brown fur pleasant and warm. Love and affection radiates from them and fills me. My entire body softens in the joy of this comfortable space. Here, I am safe and content.

humanity
Like

About the Creator

Ember Gray

Just a twentysomething Midwest girl with a story to tell.

Find me on Twitter at @embergray

Book featuring a collection of these poems and short stories coming out in August!

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.