“Wait… don’t you mean ‘Safe‘?”
No. It’s not a typo. Saving haven is what I want to talk about today.
Linking up with Five Minute Friday, and today’s theme?
We all talk about “safe haven.” Taking it, I mean. We like to make sure we have one in our homes and our hearts, where we can hide out and get away and be, well, SAFE.
I wonder. How do we carve out those places? How do we create them? And what are they centered around? Mine orbits around books, a bed, my computer, and Reese’s peanut butter cups. The peanut butter cups are optional, as sometimes they get lost in the bedcovers and then later you find what looks like poo in your sheets and freak out, and then realize, it’s just melted chocolate. And then you stand there, weighing the options, that you might just lick melted chocolate poo off your sheets and THEN you realize you have finally hit your bottom and it’s time for counseling. Really makes you think about your life choices, that whole licking the bedsheets thing.
Anyhow. I digress. Chocolate can do that to a Momsie.
The other day, I was going to do some editing of a blog post but I accidentally typed in “momx.”
Sigh. Oh internet.
Now, let me state here: Oh the places you can GO on the internet! It can be so awesome! I find myself drawn to you when I’m tired and I think, “I’ll just poke around here for a minute and find a recipe for cheesy corn because I so need that right now!” And 45 minutes later I’m watching videos of cats. It always ends up with the cats.
Unless, of course, you google the wrong thing and your computer barfs porn all over you.
I know. I KNOW. I do know it’s there and it’s bad and I guess… I guess I just didn’t really want to think about that special category of ill that involves the words “Mom” and porn. You get the idea.
This post is icky. Sorry.
I just think… our world has so many OPTIONS for everything now. And we don’t realize, sometimes, that all those options don’t have Safe Havens as part of their package deal. Like, did you know? Bad stuff is pretty much spread all OVER these options, like germs.
So, here’s what I decided: I’m just going to take my boys and move into the basement and eat rations and read the bible, and when we long for entertainment we will sit around and hold hands, strum the guitar and sing hymns.
Of course… It’s possible this plan is not going to work because I can’t play the guitar and the husband won’t come down into the basement with us because ESPN.
We need to save the havens. Somehow. I don’t really KNOW how, but we do. My job is basically directed and led and festooned all OVER the place with the internet, so I do get the irony here. If I moved to the basement, how would my beloved readers get access to the exquisite-ness that is Momsie?
It’s a double edged sword. We seek haven. But sometimes we need to run, no SPRINT away from what we rely on as comforting and safe.
What is the Haven that you are willing to fight for? To do battle for? To save? Because, in this world, those places are going away.
Unless we fight for them.
We must fight for them.