What relaxes you? Sitting in the sun? Wine, Scotch or perhaps a calming book? Or maybe you take a sedative to get you there. I knew someone who once got a shot of Valium in his hind-end when he had an anxiety attack. He said it did wonders. Whatever it may be, we all look for ways to get calm in our lives. I suppose there are many different roads people take to find that calm and for me, it literally is a road—Chagrin River Road, in Ohio. It’s my scotch, book and warm sun all in one.
Chagrin River Road goes through many communities in Northeastern Ohio and the part that I drive through, pretty much every night, goes through two of them; Gates Mills and Hunting Valley. The roadway is known to be one of the most picturesque roads in Ohio during the Fall. They’re wealthy communities that I drive through but you never see any sign of wealth. I mainly see the quiet . . . yes, I see the quiet. And animals. Every animal or bird known in Ohio meander nearby. Thick woods and a well-maintained asphalt winding road hugs the river around its every bend. And solitude. You can cut it with a fork. I usually travel the road at night, after my day is over and I’m heading home. I’m usually the only one on the roadway and as much as I see the quiet, I feel the solitude.
Chagrin River Road is in a deep valley and almost in its own separate woodland world. As an example, when the temperature is 80 degrees everywhere else, a short downward drive into the valley and you might be 8 to ten degrees cooler.
So why is Chagrin River Road my Valium? I never really knew. Eons ago I had a girlfriend that I felt almost as calm with but she turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing and that calm quickly faded. And the calm of a good book or a drink usually left me like a summer breeze disappearing into the night.
So how can a simple road be the key to calming me? And therein lies the answer, I think. It’s just a road. Secluded. No stress. No business thoughts or worries, anywhere in sight. Nature. Simple. Basic. Connection with man and nature and what matters most, which is—just living and feeling. Now, I’m not a camper or a woodsman and certainly not a psychologist but I wonder if we all might have some sort of a deep connection with nature that we can tap into.
It’s Gone!
One night, while driving down my Shangri-La road, for some reason, I started thinking about some business worries and noticed that my wooded Valium was no longer doing its thing. I stopped myself from pondering and told myself to just look all around me and . . . drive. Nothing else. In a few seconds that wooded Valium kicked back in.
It’s ironic that the same stretch of roadway that I calmly drive today held some serious stress many years ago, when I was a cop. One was a wild police pursuit that involved twenty or so police cars, me included, that rivaled anything we see on the nightly news. We chased a mental patient who had stolen a car and rammed a police cruiser. That ended up many miles away in a city bordering Cleveland. And the other one was also a chase, however, a much shorter and less dramatic one that had to do with an intoxicated driver—later determined to be on alcohol and cocaine who almost hit my cruiser head on. This happened while I was patrolling in a nearby city. I chased him to the exact area on Chagrin River Road that I now make my driving routine. Talk about a small world! That pursuit and subsequent arrest turned into a wild brawl in our booking room when the subject dove on me and wanted to tear me to bits.
So, now, I drive down a road that once held the opposite of what I experience today. Now, I’m on a cloud as I drive on Chagrin River Road. I let my mind feel the road, trees and nature and I’m calm to the core. It has nothing to do with money, cool, or success. And maybe that’s why it’s so relaxing. It’s the opposite of what we all thought peace and calm was about. It awaits me every night on Chagrin River Road and it awaits you too, somewhere.
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