Happy Spot.

I read an article today about burn-out and how to heal from it. It suggested seeking out the feeling of awe and wonder. Feeling awe is the salve to the wound of burnout.

When I get sad or feel weighed down by life’s burdens, I like to visit my happy spot. It involves mental time travel to a real place I have visited in the past. Whenever I “go” there, I feel calmer and I feel awe; profound, unadulterated awe.

Once, when I was sixteen I took a trip with my family. We went up north, to the Himalayas. We went to holy places like Varanasi, Haridwar, Mathura and Vrindavan. We went to picturesque little towns like Mussoorie, Almora and Ranikhet. I saw with my own two eyes, Mount Kailash looming, through a telescope and the Nanga parbat (naked mountain). That trip was breathtaking in every sense of the word. I saw snow for the first time and even kissed a boy for the first time. I ate juicy oranges to quench my thirst and scrumptiously warm dal-roti to satisfy my hunger. I realy admired and understood the beauty and wonderment that nature is.

But none of these spots are my happy spot. My happy spot was an unplanned halt in the town of Kausani we took because our car broke down and it was too late and cold to get a mechanic. We stayed at a little, rustic cottage with two rooms and a gigantic bathroom. It was the night of December 31st and our host took us to a special dance performance by the local Kumaon tribe. We stayed up late but somehow I woke up early in the morning, before sunrise. I stepped out on the verandah and the most stunning sunrise I have ever witnessed unfolded before me.

I was on a mountain. In front of me flourished a vast, verdant valley with little homes strewn all over. It was still dark in the valley, but I could see smoke rising from the embers of the previous night. Behind the valley stood a line of mountains. Even more mountains towered over the first mountain range and behind this second layer stood the snow-clad, expansive fold mountains called the Himalayas. Confetti of light spread through the sky and the first rays of the sun fell on the top-most peaks of the Himalayas. There was a riot of colors bouncing off the stark white snow; a disco ball of reds, yellows, greens and purples. Slowly, gently the light spread over the entire range and then the two mountain ranges below the Himalayas. A few minutes later, the light had glided to the valley and it was suddenly bright. People were up and went about their daily lives and I went back inside drenched in astonishment at the sight I had been allowed to observe.

That is my Happy Spot. I go there often.

What’s yours?