We All Have A Haven To Protect Us From The Storm

Zafón points out in his book “The labyrinth of spirits” that “ anyone who aspires to preserve their sane judgment needs a place in the world where they can and want to get lost ”. Furthermore, he describes this last refuge, this last place of safety, as “a little annex of the soul to which, when the world sinks in its absurd comedy, one can always run for cover and lose the key” .

This reflection, partly true and partly not, gives us an idea to think about. On the one hand, it seems that we all have this little retreat or safety space in which we feel most protected. It can be a physical place, a place in our mind or a combination of both ; in which there are objects, but also memories and hopes.

It is a place that we walk around with very few people, and in which no one has entered. In it we keep the dreams that we share with few people, and also those that we don’t share with anyone; the same thing happens with sources of pain.

Alicia Gris – the enigmatic protagonist of “The labyrinth of spirits” – is an almost perpetual resident of this refuge, and at the same time, she is a resident who is unaware of a large part of its content. Little does she leave this refuge, so she has very tired eyes to distinguish the shape of the things that surround her and identify what defines them and what is in the same corner. That’s why, behind his security cloak, there is a portrait of an insecure character, like many people of flesh and blood.

What do we keep in our refuge?

We keep the scent of the people who helped us, with a very special memory for those who do it every day and for those who did it to make us feel good. We also keep the pretexts that we cling to in the worst moments, and small trophies, fruits of what we have lived as our best triumphs. With us are the people who have passed away, who we take for granted and who we can no longer touch.

Here are also the dreams we left on the shelf when we were growing up. Dreams that have our footprints as proof that there were times when we had them in our own hands, but also as proof that we didn’t take them back. Mixtures of “unconfessable fantasies” and “somewhat confessable” are also piled up, among which many keep the desire to drop everything and start living.

– Is it okay, Fermin?

– Like an angry bull.

– I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so sad.

– This is because I have to preserve my image.

Daniel didn’t insist.

– What do you say? Are we taking it? How about if I invite you to a sparkling wine at El Xampanyet?

– Thanks Daniel, but I don’t think I’ll accept it today.

– You don’t remember? What life has to offer us!

Fermin smiled and, for the first time, Daniel realized that his old friend didn’t have a hair that wasn’t gray.

– This is for you, Daniel. For me, only memory remains.

 – The labyrinth of spirits – Carlos Ruiz Zafón –

We also hold our fears, our weakest and most vulnerable part. Those to whom we have given words, but of whom fear is still born; those that we only intuit, but that we don’t dare to open up because the idea of ​​discovering what’s really underneath scares us.

In addition, we keep memories of situations where we put our worst version. Also those where we surpassed ourselves and that we keep back in our own consciousness, and we wonder how on earth we were able to do that being just a small grain of sand in the universe.

In this refuge, the feeling of immensity is mixed, occupying with our consciousness a good part of our I, related to the fact that we are unique, but also a feeling of smallness because of the little we are in front of the immensity of the universe, related to the fact that that we are replaceable.

It is a refuge of passage, not of permanence.

Too much time in this refuge fills our eyes with a sea of ​​unnavigable nostalgia. It makes us part of the past and the future, completely eliminating the present in which our senses move. People who live in this place for a long time spend the day on autopilot and project on others a sense of absence and remoteness.

In fact, everything positive that exists placed on the shelves or piled up on the floor by the chimney starts to give off an aroma of sadness. It is also then that our interior completely disconnects from the image we project, because the longer we spend in this place, the more complicated it becomes for someone to approach. The others drift further and further away.

Well then, what can we do so that this refuge doesn’t flood us with negative emotions?

• Don’t let go of what’s going on around you. If you want, go a few days without reading the news or watching the newspaper, but don’t cut ties with the people who care about you.
• If you don’t feel understood, try to make them understand you, but don’t back off. With distance, this feeling of incomprehension will only increase.
• Always have small short-term goals. Adapt them according to your stress tolerance, but always have at least one project that can give you satisfaction.

• Be aware of where you are, not just physically, but mentally as well. When you enter this refuge, make a note of the moment and don’t go too long without leaving. Balance the time you spend in solitude and company.

As we have seen, this refuge can save us on many occasions, but on others it can turn into the worst trap we could fall into. My recommendation is that you make the most of it when you’re in it, but that you don’t end up reducing your life to what exists between four walls, whether real or imagined.