My Special Place
From habitude to gratitude
There’s this park in Barcelona. It does not appear to be particularly “special”. It’s fairly small and noisy, as it’s situated next to a main intersection. And what is most extraordinary is that we’re not allowed on the grassy area in the middle.
With picnics out of the question, everyone strolls/runs/cycles the dusty half-pathed, half-stony walkway round the outside, lined with potholes and other such obstructions, making it somewhat of an obstacle course.
This park is a six-minute walk from where I used to live, and in the middle of my old route to work. However, I always tried my best to avoid it, as it got on my nerves that there was no direct way through to my house, so the main road was a much more efficient option to get from A to B.
Back in May last year, after seven weeks of house lockdown when we were finally allowed out for exercise, I sought a place to explore. As my energy levels were pretty low while still recovering from Covid-19, I needed a place close by my home, ideally with some greenery. The most convenient place was said park. I was pretty disappointed at this option; I thought it boring, uninspirational, and too small to enjoy. I was used to the fun adventures of a hike or the beach.
I made my way to the park, unenthused, although still happy to be out of the house at all. I was pretty overwhelmed when I got there as it was the first place I’d been in 7 weeks with a decent amount of people, yet there was a vibe of contentment and understanding at each other’s company.
I caught people’s eyes, and although the masks never revealed the truth, I know they were smiling just as much as I was.
The days passed, and my dissatisfaction started to dissipate. Yoga was healing me back to health, and I’d found a perfect spot for it in the park on a flat platform, with just the right amount of quietness needed to get in the flow, and busyness to fulfil my cravings for human interaction. Afterwards, I would lie on my mat and watch the birds.
It reminded me that nature was still there, still thriving and that the world was so much more than this time and this moment.
The weeks passed; I still couldn’t travel too far from my house, and I became very fond of this park. Its smallness became a charm. I could sit undisturbed for hours, take in every bit of my surroundings, and appreciate the things that previously would have gone unnoticed. Its simplicity was comforting, as I knew what to expect, and there were no surprises; quite unlike the rest of life, where from one day to the next we didn’t know if we should be Covid quarantining for 10 or 14 days, if we’d have to use kitchen roll instead of toilet roll due to short supply, or if another stint of crushing lockdown was upon us.
I often bumped into people I hadn’t seen in months. What happiness seeing old faces brought me!
I found myself coming every day to the same spot, watching myself heal and grow.
Many, many months have passed, and since I’ve moved, I now go out of my way to visit my park, as force has turned to choice. And as I lie right now on a park sun-lounger, I watch the birds frolic on the unspoiled grass, and feel grateful for my special place of comfort and tranquility.
In response to Being Known’s Monthly Writing prompt: gratitude & presence. Original invitation below:
