Friday, January 27, 2012

dreamy dream cave of my dreams

I don't think I've ever mentioned that there is a cave inside my head. The cave is my "happy place" in my imagination that I can retreat to when real life is unpleasant. I didn't have one until a few years ago when a friend described her mental paradise and I had the oddest stirring of envy that her mental real estate was grander than mine. I began developing my fantasy space that day.

It started as a dark cave and stayed that way for at least a year- just a little blue/black cave with nothing in it but me.

The next few years of cave visits made me elaborate on the concept. If I was going to go there often, I figured I could do more with the place. When I reflect on that period in my life where a dark cave seemed like the perfect place to be, I know I was experiencing some depression.

Light was the first thing I added. I pictured stalactites and stalagmites softly glowing in bright pastels. Much better. I added a thick moss carpet speckled with snowdrops too.

That was good enough for a long time but I got lonely. I invited a handful of shaggy albino bats with lavender eyes. The cave was getting crowded so I constructed a long dark tunnel with a massive chamber at the end. I still haven't been down there because I accidentally added a giant creature curled up and sleeping soundly. I don't want to disturb it.

The only reason I know that there is a giant creature sleeping at the end of the tunnel is because the chamber echoes it's heavy breathing. Oh neat! My imaginary space just went from a silent to a talkie!

Since I heard the breathing, I couldn't help but hear the drip dripping of water from the stalactites (it kind of sounds like droplets falling on a xylophone) and the rustle of bat wings.

If I can hear, I can smell. Caves have a reputation for cavestank but I assure you that mine is a sensory pleasure on all fronts. The moss carpet smells earthy and fresh and the long dark tunnel smells faintly of mint and is a few degrees cooler at the entrance.

I'm thinking about adding a hot spring to bathe in but I can't tell if that is too much. It is hard to be tasteful with an unlimited imaginary budget.

I know I'm not the only one with mental hideaways. I'd love to hear about yours. If you don't have one, you can use mine (but not while I'm there because I'm naked of course).


Jen Collins said...

this. is. amazing.

i don't have a "happy place" like this, & maybe i ought to. a few years ago, for about a year, i had pretty crappy anxiety & i tried to picture it as a horse so i could reign it in. for the last month i've had tinnitus & i'm trying to picture it as a little humming bird, to make it more bearable. seems i choose animals rather than places!

robyn said...

I don't have a place, but I want one now too. The first thing that came to my mind was a lush green lawn that I could scamp around on barefoot and lay down and look up at the blue sky with white puffy clouds. Sometimes I'd want shade from the sun, so I'd have trees where I could hang a hammock. It would always be late spring or early fall. It would also be nice to have a one room cabin with HUGE windows to see out. Although, the floor of the cabin inside would also have grass. The walls would be covered with bright and cheerful artwork. Of course people could come to my little cabin and buy some of the things I make, no worries about taxes though :)

DeBonair said...

I have my "happy place" but I dont dream it or imagine it. It is the ocean, or more specifically, surfing. When I am surfing the world stands still. No one can get to me. No responsibility can find me. The only piece of reality that I have is my watch, which keeps me from missing class. If I ever move away from the ocean I will have to invent a happy place for sure! Your happy place sounds beautiful :)