Sometimes I go to a place. My place. Somewhere serene. The sole purpose just to 'be alone'. I don't think when I'm there. It's not a time where I sit with my head resting on one hand, considering all of the things happening in my life. The pressures of decisions of direction. You know, we all ask the same question. "What do you do?" Conditioning everyone else to believe that it is of importance. Adding to everyone's anxieties. I don't believe it is. Not really. I mean, isn't it more important who we are? Here I am, asking questions when I wasn't going to think. I have a few spots that I go to, to clear my head. Generally they're up high somewhere. There's usually a consistent wind or breeze that flows through. A cold one. One that bites at my cheeks and makes me hug my coat in closer. It wakes me up, as if I've dived into a cold pool of water. Sometimes I'll smoke. I don't know why I do that. Why I go to higher places or why I smoke. The cold wind tells me that I'm not alone. That these negative energies and pressures are just a part of the life we flow through. It tells me that everything is as it should be, and that I should stop complaining. It carries stories from afar, energies from nearby and around. It flows through the trees around me that whisper stories they have heard, passed along from faraway forests. Whispers and stories. Wisdom. Comfort. I hug myself. To keep out the cold but also just to hug myself. On the drive there I'm usually tense, sad, anxious. Or numb. The busy life we live in cluttering my mind. Replaying episodes in my mind that stress me. Sometimes it feels like everyone else has a plan. Everyone else knows where they're headed and what they're doing. They all love their jobs, studies, and have it all sorted. Why else would they ask me what my plan is? I drove to the beach the other day. Early in the morning. It was a beautiful morning, but I couldn't let go of this feeling that something bad was going to happen. I almost wanted it to. Driving there I thought that it would actually be nice for something to happen out of my control. I wouldn't have to think about the things in my control. Like the decisions of direction. My "plan". Instead I flicked through radio stations, trying to distract myself from the boring drive on the M1. Voices making me tense, songs making me anxious. Hoping that it would help to be somewhere serene and silent. I pulled into the empty gravel carpark. Climbed over the fence and pushed through the shrubs ignoring the warning sign. A little man falling off a cliff along with chunks of earth, and a hazard symbol. The one that always makes me think of Harry Potter's lightening bolt scar. Eroding cliffs or something. I just figured that they wouldn't erode where I was. I mean, what was the chance of that? The word erode even sounds like something that happens over thousands of years. Reminds me of year ten geography class. Mr what-was-his-name-again??'s dull voice saying "erosion" too many times in a sentence. I sat down a few feet away from the edge. Heart race increasing a little, instinct telling me I was too close. I pushed it out of my mind though, along with everything else that was back where I came from. The water was magnificent. So immense. Never ending. Powerful. The effect of it was silence. Cleansing silence. Surrendering to the beauty took a weight of my heart and shoulders. The wind told me that everything was as it should be. That I was strong enough and would make it out alive. The birds nearby tweeted and twittered, singing happy little songs completely ignoring me. There were a few surfers out further down the coast. Tiny dots in such a large ocean. Playing around on little waves sent in from out there. Wherever that was. I lay back on the ground, still cool and damp from the night. Closing my eyes I let it all go. All the little things, the little worries and pressure and expectations. We're all as small as those surfers. The busy lives just help to conceal how meaningless it all is. We're little black dots on a huge planet that we don't even understand. Lying there with my eyes closed, I surrendered to it. Whatever it was. To being. In this messy world we've created. And as I lay there, I heard a cracking noise of sorts. I could feel it underneath me. I stayed put, I didn't move. My heart raced and mind froze, waiting. Soft low thuds told me earth was hitting the beach far below. When it stopped, I realised I wasn't breathing and gasped filling my lungs with air that I somehow felt I'd never taste again. Air so sweet. Fresh with life. Did that happen? Adrenaline opened my eyes and slowly I lifted my head to assess the damage. A tree that had been a few metres to the left of me was gone. I rolled over onto my stomach and half crawled, dragged myself away from the cliff edge. On the way back to town, I realised that my cheeks were drenched with tears. I was crying. For the first time in as long as I could remember. All I could think about were the little happy birds chirping. And I couldn't stop crying.