Hiding Places

In an undeveloped cul-de-sac, there's a little outlet that's a perfect fit for my car. There's no one around. I go there when I'm not ready to go home, when I need to be completely, utterly, alone, away, disconnected. When I park there, I turn off the car and lock my doors, and I just sit. After just a few minutes of solitude, my mind is clear. I feel rejuvenated.

I've always had similar spots. In college, there was a couch in an empty part of the student center, where I would nap between classes, curled up under my jacket. When I worked for the airlines, I would take my breaks in the abandoned areas of the terminal. Airports can be extremely relaxing. At my last job, I found a dark, quiet hallway to escape to. In high school, I would sometimes eat lunch in an empty parking lot, sheltered by a row of pine trees.

Even in the city, it's possible to hide. As a matter of fact, it's even easier. People don't notice you there. I love melting into crowds. One of the best places to hide is the mall food court. I have spent many hours sipping my Sbarro soda and watching people there.

These little secret hiding spots are important. Ever since I was making private blanket-forts in the living room, I've made sure there is always somewhere to disappear when things get to be a little too much. Solitude is so therapeutic.