When I was very young I lived there most of the time real life and dream life were one, play dream play.
When I was a teenager and I was painfully shy, I disappeared from the classroom by hovering in the ceiling and eventually flying out trough the window into the monks garden, I would pluck an orange on my way and calmed my growling belly, and by the time the bell rang I had gone to a wonderful trip but was abruptly dumped back into my chair and fearful of someone , anyone looking towards my desk.
Then I got to live in it again trough college, I was in my happy place while painting and drawing, making sculptures and I was no longer afraid of all people…
Now I don’t get to paint much, I hardly have time to dream my way into my happy place, I don’t get to go there very often because I’m busy all the time, and when I do get to I’m often interrupted by a little cute voice saying, I want a cookie!!! or other not so pleasant things like a kids argument.
I go there while doing something boring like the dishes, then the dishes become places and the water I’m washing them with becomes pools or water falls… I swim in there and there are lots of fish…
I go there in long drives, and I look in it for the treasure of a golden remote with a pause button, and a mute button… so I can stay in there longer…
But not too long, because then I get lonely, and I miss my people, the very same people I sometimes would like to pause or mute… but I love them just the same.