Dar~
Indefatigable
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2005
- Posts
- 7,338
At the urging of someone important to me, I am starting this thread. Almost likea challenge.
Describe the place you go in your mind when anger threatens your world.
Mine
Anger, an all-consuming, burning fire, eats at my soul. I get so mad that I get pains in my chest and my breathing gets staggered. The slightest fault can turn me into an illogical, two horned creature that eats people for dinner. Within a moment, I transform into an anal-retentive, perfectionist, accepting no mistakes and screaming at will. I do not like that person! My sophomore year in high school, I joined a care group that taught anger control. One of the methods taught to picture a perfect, calm place in the imagination. I learned to picture this place whenever I got angry or frustrated and it helps me to calm down.
Walking into my secret place feels like entering a void that seemingly crushes out reality. A well-trodden stone path guides me through a field of waist high grass. Each blade almost seems to reflect a perfect shard of light, like a mirror broken into thousands of pieces. Each piece will reflect its own picture. A brilliant variety of greens blending from the softest, pastel green at the tips to a deep emerald green at the ground, hypnotizes the eyes yet transfers them to each individual blade. A soft breeze moves the grass with the faintest sounds, like an orchestra of violins playing a sweet lullaby, and the wind raises a scent from the damp earth akin to the aroma in spring after a light rain has fallen. Along with the faint rustle of the grass, floating through my mind, Pachbel’s canon in D lilts peacefully to me, and seems endless. The sky, scattered with fluffy clouds, shines a warm light on me, keeping me a comfortable temperature. I enjoy the perfect calm and breathe deeply the fresh air.
Slowly trees start to appear. Though it doesn’t appear to be fall, many of these trees are in full autumn regalia, while still others choose to remain in their spring-time arraignment. Oaks, maples, and elms in reds, golds, and greens create a kaleidoscope of colors that fill my mind with contentment and a feeling of being in a truly sacred place. The trees progressively get denser, until, to no great surprise, it becomes a forest with a damp earthy smell rising from the ground. Rays of colored sun shining through the leaves look like light beaming through a stained glass window. All around me I hear birds chirping and squirrels arguing over this and that. To me it seems strange that the animals don’t get silent, but to them I am just another creature of the forest, nothing strange. Looking at the ground alongside of my trail, I See the upraised roots of trees that have been there for hundreds of years. Oaks and maples that I couldn’t even span with my arms if I tripled myself. To my right, I start to hear a musical trickle, as water flows gently over the contours of the forest floor. Inside the glass-like water small minnows, looking like silver darts of light, tricks of the mind, swim effortlessly, letting the pull of the water take them along. Steadily the stone path transforms into a sandy path lined with daffodils, shiny, yellow trumpets announcing my arrival to the clearing.
I enter a large clearing. Following the path I ascend a rather slight incline to a regal looking weeping birch. The white bark shines like diamonds in the sun and cascading branches create a sanctuary that no one but me knows. The leaves and branches are so dense that only with a breeze to move them can a person see the diamond bark of the branches and trunk. Before entering my haven, I turn in a wide circle. Form the top of my miniature mountain, I see short emerald green grass dotted with daisies and marigolds, a sandy path , lined with announcer daffodils, awaiting a call to duty, and a small brook, mirroring the sky, to the far right, cutting my clearing in two. Again I intake a deep breath to let calm and beauty seep into my veins. Then, I sweep aside the thick cascading leaves and step into my secret place.
An extremely wide base provides this tree with a solid foundation for branches leaning out fifteen feet in a circle and at least fifty feet into the sky. Heavy vines of leaves tumble to the ground, muffling the sounds of the forest, casting lacy shadows on the ground. Inside the canopy the grass has grown soft and makes a perfect place to take a nap. Two of the lower branches cross rather close to the trunk, creating a chair. At the base of the tree, a rock, smoothed by over the years by the weather, sits waiting patiently while I boost myself in to the tree seat and lean against the trunk. Underneath the leaves, in my silent world, the air tastes fresh. The tree gives off a scent of life and continuance, helping me look to the future but, also helping me to relax. From the smell I know my place will always exist. As the sun goes down and the sky drifts from royal blue to dark purple, I return to the real world. I leave my refuge with peace of mind, and the anger is gone. When I go to sleep that night, I will see the first star from my tree seat, I will smell life, taste freshness, and I will remember it all in my dreams.
Describe the place you go in your mind when anger threatens your world.
Mine
Anger, an all-consuming, burning fire, eats at my soul. I get so mad that I get pains in my chest and my breathing gets staggered. The slightest fault can turn me into an illogical, two horned creature that eats people for dinner. Within a moment, I transform into an anal-retentive, perfectionist, accepting no mistakes and screaming at will. I do not like that person! My sophomore year in high school, I joined a care group that taught anger control. One of the methods taught to picture a perfect, calm place in the imagination. I learned to picture this place whenever I got angry or frustrated and it helps me to calm down.
Walking into my secret place feels like entering a void that seemingly crushes out reality. A well-trodden stone path guides me through a field of waist high grass. Each blade almost seems to reflect a perfect shard of light, like a mirror broken into thousands of pieces. Each piece will reflect its own picture. A brilliant variety of greens blending from the softest, pastel green at the tips to a deep emerald green at the ground, hypnotizes the eyes yet transfers them to each individual blade. A soft breeze moves the grass with the faintest sounds, like an orchestra of violins playing a sweet lullaby, and the wind raises a scent from the damp earth akin to the aroma in spring after a light rain has fallen. Along with the faint rustle of the grass, floating through my mind, Pachbel’s canon in D lilts peacefully to me, and seems endless. The sky, scattered with fluffy clouds, shines a warm light on me, keeping me a comfortable temperature. I enjoy the perfect calm and breathe deeply the fresh air.
Slowly trees start to appear. Though it doesn’t appear to be fall, many of these trees are in full autumn regalia, while still others choose to remain in their spring-time arraignment. Oaks, maples, and elms in reds, golds, and greens create a kaleidoscope of colors that fill my mind with contentment and a feeling of being in a truly sacred place. The trees progressively get denser, until, to no great surprise, it becomes a forest with a damp earthy smell rising from the ground. Rays of colored sun shining through the leaves look like light beaming through a stained glass window. All around me I hear birds chirping and squirrels arguing over this and that. To me it seems strange that the animals don’t get silent, but to them I am just another creature of the forest, nothing strange. Looking at the ground alongside of my trail, I See the upraised roots of trees that have been there for hundreds of years. Oaks and maples that I couldn’t even span with my arms if I tripled myself. To my right, I start to hear a musical trickle, as water flows gently over the contours of the forest floor. Inside the glass-like water small minnows, looking like silver darts of light, tricks of the mind, swim effortlessly, letting the pull of the water take them along. Steadily the stone path transforms into a sandy path lined with daffodils, shiny, yellow trumpets announcing my arrival to the clearing.
I enter a large clearing. Following the path I ascend a rather slight incline to a regal looking weeping birch. The white bark shines like diamonds in the sun and cascading branches create a sanctuary that no one but me knows. The leaves and branches are so dense that only with a breeze to move them can a person see the diamond bark of the branches and trunk. Before entering my haven, I turn in a wide circle. Form the top of my miniature mountain, I see short emerald green grass dotted with daisies and marigolds, a sandy path , lined with announcer daffodils, awaiting a call to duty, and a small brook, mirroring the sky, to the far right, cutting my clearing in two. Again I intake a deep breath to let calm and beauty seep into my veins. Then, I sweep aside the thick cascading leaves and step into my secret place.
An extremely wide base provides this tree with a solid foundation for branches leaning out fifteen feet in a circle and at least fifty feet into the sky. Heavy vines of leaves tumble to the ground, muffling the sounds of the forest, casting lacy shadows on the ground. Inside the canopy the grass has grown soft and makes a perfect place to take a nap. Two of the lower branches cross rather close to the trunk, creating a chair. At the base of the tree, a rock, smoothed by over the years by the weather, sits waiting patiently while I boost myself in to the tree seat and lean against the trunk. Underneath the leaves, in my silent world, the air tastes fresh. The tree gives off a scent of life and continuance, helping me look to the future but, also helping me to relax. From the smell I know my place will always exist. As the sun goes down and the sky drifts from royal blue to dark purple, I return to the real world. I leave my refuge with peace of mind, and the anger is gone. When I go to sleep that night, I will see the first star from my tree seat, I will smell life, taste freshness, and I will remember it all in my dreams.
