Photo by Andriyko Podilnyk on Unsplash

I dream of running away to a place of quiet, of freedom, my own harbor. I have always been an escaper.

As a child, my paths to refuge were books, walks, my bike, my bedroom, the late-night hours in my bed, thinking and imagining.

My brain needs space to have its own adventure, away from the demands of other voices and images, of questions and problems that take a tax and leave it depleted. These spaces have been respites that…