When getting to know people in depth, I usually ask what their favorite places are. Everyone has one, even if they haven’t put that name to it. It can be anywhere: a room, a restaurant, a tree branch, an overpass, or a memory. At any given chunk of my life, I would probably answer this question differently.

As a child, in fact, my answer could change by the minute. My favorite place could be my room, where my toys lived, a tent, where I had an elaborate game of pretend set up, in the garden, where my imagination ran wild, or any other given place.

When I entered my teenage years, my favorite place was a spot in the woods. Just removed from the four-wheeler paths, it was an isolated cut of bank with a tree branch stretched across the opening. The river rushed around the tips of the branch and the rocks and plants that grew from the bottom. I would go there to listen to the water and find my zen when I needed it, which was often. I took pleasure in bringing my friends there. It was like a secret we shared and only I could find.

Later in my teendom, I moved towns. It wasn’t terribly dramatic; about 10 miles over and I didn’t even change schools. In fact, the length of commute didn’t change at all. However, this meant that I couldn’t go to my old favorite place anymore. I had to find a new one.

It isn’t easy to find a place that fills you with zen, but I succeeded. You see, around the corner from my house is a collapsed bridge that used to go over a river. It is a very convenient, although not private, place to go to and listen to the water and pick wildflowers in the summer. I enjoyed it. I brought my friends.

Now, as an adult, I am not sure how to answer that question. It is difficult to have a favorite nature spot in the middle of city, no matter how small. I have several memories that I like to revisit, but none so specific that they bear sharing. I suppose my new favorite places are with people. I love Elmira College theatre, any place that it happens to be, because of my friends and fellow lovers of the art. I love other places, such as home, for similar reasons specific to the location. Sometimes I love places because of their lack of people. I like to be alone to recharge my batteries and sort out my thoughts.

Here is the challenge: what is your favorite place? Is it an actual physical place? Is it a memory in which you feel safe? Is it the binding of a journal or the spaces between the lines of your favorite book? Will your answer stay the same? What does it mean if it doesn’t? What does it mean if it does? What does it mean if you can’t answer these questions?