My Escape...

When I was young, I had a strategy for getting through hard times. I would plan my escape. This was back in something like 7th grade. I spent hours checking airfares to all the places I wouldn't mind escaping to. I'd find hotels that I thought maybe I'd stay at. And because I was somewhat realistic (can't you tell?), I also checked fares on Greyhound. I had something close to 80 bucks saved. I was ready - if Life pushed just a little too far, I was off.

That kind of thought gave me a lot of strength to get though difficult times. It's easier to endure something when you know there *is* an alternative, even if you know you’ll never take it.

People think this way all the time. If work gets too bad, they know they can find a new job. If life at home is rough, they can find a hobby to occupy them. If worse comes to worse, a pair of headphones and a loud iPod make a handy escape.

Sometimes, however, these don't go far enough. Sometimes a real escape is called for. Now, I don't mean to sound like life is closing in on me and that I have to find a way out of the one I have. It's not and I don't. But there are days...

Once in a while I find myself looking for a place to run. Not looking *to* run - just planning. Like back in seventh grade. The pressures are different today than they were back then. And in a lot of ways, they are easier to deal with – not everything feels like the end of the world the way it did back then. And knowing there are options still helps to take the edge off.

I’ve always been something of a daydreamer. I know there are people who "escape" to extremes. They escape into alcohol or drugs, or they run away to Tahiti (or used to anyway), or they just never grow up. I prefer my own version – to sit for a minute and think of the beach, and my wife and I splashing in the waves, or looking for shells. And I smile, and then I come back to the now, until the next trip..