Instead of turning back at the halfway mark, I kept going. Around the aquarium, the sounds of Lakeshore Drive get a little softer. To the end of the peninsula and around the planetarium (the rocket ship museum, my little one calls it) it is suddenly quiet with only the call of the occasional seagull and the lapping of the waves. This is the place I get to when I let everything go. I sat and watched the horizon as the great emotions slipped away, leaving a sense of clarity in its place.
Remembering the slogan, "feelings aren't facts", I laughed to myself. That used to annoy the hell out of me when someone would tell me that. "But they're valid aren't they?" I would whine. Today, it's so good to know that I can get to the place where the feelings pass and then I can think clearly. From here, I turn towards home with confidence as a parent, and great love for my children.
I can't always get away to pound the pavement. To go far enough around the bend for all the crazy to melt away. So I try to remember these moments.
What do you do to find clarity?