Xanax and a Buddhist Retreat.

This is one of the very first adventure photos I took of Lilly, capturing the New England vibe of the bog sheds—a scene that would come to symbolize our love for cranberry harvest season.

I miss this girl … all the time. And sometimes I’m not sure if I’m referring to me, Lilly, or both of us. It’s been one of those years – the kind where self-diagnosed burnout hits, and you contemplate fleeing to India with a 3 month supply of Xanax and a map to a Buddhist retreat. I imagine a long, winding dirt road leading to a spiritual journey immersed with meditation and reflection. I’ll sip strange teas and listen to Dharma talks on how to live a compassionate and mindful life. I’ll find…something.

Maybe these mixed emotions have bubbled to the surface while ruminating through my mother’s life, finding pictures of me as a little girl, full of hope, promise, and wanderlust. The end of something always triggers the end of something else and we find ourselves contemplating our existence. Those “What am I doing with my life?” questions creep up your spine, and leave you shivering in untapped potential. My greatest fear.

My Mom now resides in a long-term care facility for dementia patients. I’m not quite ready to tell that story, but it’s there, festering. There’s anger toward the health care system, and far too much sadness around my own inability to take care of her. I know she is safe, but she’s not where either of us want her to be.

Safety and happiness are not the same thing.

Meanwhile, the Buddhist retreat still beckons – or really, any place beyond here. Sometimes we need to return to the bogs … to that place where the air envelopes you in peace while you sip exotic tea and remember everything you’re about to become.

Find your happy place today.