I don't exactly remember when I found my quiet place. It may have been when I was very small, and my older brothers and sister were too big to play with me. It may have been when I learned to read and could be transported anywhere...just by opening a book.
Maybe I found it when I first started forming my own ideas about religion. Or the first time a boyfriend broke up with me. Did I find it when my children were small and my patience was tested every day? Or when they were older and my desire to solve things for them vied with their need to make their own mistakes?
It could be that I found that quiet place when my father died. Or I may have found it when my children were born. Maybe I found it one of the times when I made a big mistake and had to face the fact that I am not perfect, even though I keep expecting me to be.
Whenever it was that I found it for the first time, I always seem to be able to return to it when I need to. When the demands of others press in on me like that giant trash compactor in "Star Wars" I can retreat to my quiet place. When my own fears (of which there is a rich abundance) crowd me I can close that comforting door on them and go back to my quiet place. When insomnia is turning my brain to pudding, I wrap my quiet place around me like a warm and cozy blanket.
It's my own imagination.
Always, feel free to comment! Trish in AZ