What’s Your Sanctuary? (All About You #1)

Your Stories, Your Sanctuary

Welcome to “All About You” – where your stories and experiences take center stage. I’ll share some of mine for context, but this is really your space to share and connect with others on similar journeys.

Today’s question: What’s your sanctuary?

Not just a place (though it might be), but wherever you feel truly safe. Where you can completely relax and just be yourself.

My Sanctuary

For me, sanctuary shows up in unexpected places. There’s those early morning walks to 7-Eleven before the world wakes up—just me, the empty streets, and that quiet conversation with something bigger than myself. No one needs anything from me yet. The day hasn’t started making demands.

Then there’s the tractor. Sounds weird maybe, but sitting up there working the soil, there’s this honest simplicity to it. The work shows on the land. My mind stops spinning. It’s just me, the machine, the dirt, and the rhythm of moving forward. After years at computers and in classrooms, that physical work creates a different kind of peace.

Sometimes I find sanctuary in the classroom when a student really connects—when we stop doing grammar exercises and just talk. Real conversation about life, fears, dreams, the weird stuff we wonder about at 3 AM. Those moments when someone feels safe enough to say what they’re actually thinking, not what they’re supposed to say—that’s sanctuary for both of us.

But if I’m honest, my deepest sanctuary is right here—at the PC at home. The classroom is still work, still being “on” for students. But here at my computer, building this blog, tinkering with ideas, writing—this is where I’m most myself. No one watching, no expectations—just me creating something that might connect with others.

It took me years to realize I don’t have just one sanctuary. I need different ones for different things. The early morning walk for gratitude. The tractor for quieting anxiety. The classroom for connection. The computer for purpose. The evening jog for processing whatever the day threw at me.

What does your sanctuary give you that nowhere else does?

What Sanctuary Actually Feels Like

Here’s what I’ve noticed: sanctuary isn’t just mental. You feel it in your body.

Your shoulders drop. That tight feeling in your chest loosens. Your breathing slows down without you trying. Sometimes you don’t even realize how tense you were until you reach your safe space and everything just… releases.

For some people, sanctuary feels like exhaling after holding your breath all day. For others, it’s that moment when your mind finally stops racing and you can just exist without planning or worrying or performing.

It might be as simple as closing your bedroom door and knowing no one will knock. Or stepping outside and feeling wind on your face. Or picking up a book and disappearing into someone else’s story for a while.

Sanctuary isn’t always quiet, either. Some people find it in music turned up loud, or in the chaos of a busy kitchen where they’re in control of the chaos. Others find it in the repetitive motion of knitting, running, chopping vegetables—something that occupies just enough of your brain that the anxious part can finally rest.

Whatever it is, you know it when you’re there. It’s where you stop pretending and can just be whoever you actually are in that moment—tired, confused, angry, peaceful, whatever. No judgment, no expectations, just permission to exist as you are.

How do you know when you’ve reached your sanctuary? What changes in your body or mind?

When Sanctuary Disappears

The hard truth is that sanctuaries don’t always last.

You move, and that garden you tended for years isn’t yours anymore. Someone dies, and the place you felt safest was with them. Your body changes, and the long hikes that used to clear your head aren’t possible now. Life shifts, and suddenly your old sanctuary doesn’t work the same way.

When my wife left last year after twenty years, a lot of my sense of home went with her. The apartment we shared, the routines we built—all of that changed. I had to figure out what sanctuary looked like without her presence anchoring everything.

Or sometimes you still have access to your sanctuary, but guilt keeps you away. You feel like you should be working, helping, doing something productive instead of “just” sitting in your garden or taking that walk. We’re pretty good at denying ourselves the very things that keep us grounded.

And then there are people actively searching for sanctuary who haven’t found it yet. Maybe you moved to a new city and nothing feels safe yet. Maybe you’re in a season of life where everything’s chaotic and you can’t carve out that space. Maybe you had one once but can’t remember how to get back to it.

That’s okay. Sometimes sanctuary is something you have to build slowly, piece by piece, until you find what actually works for this version of your life. It’s not failure if you’re still looking—it’s just part of the process.

Have you lost a sanctuary and had to build a new one? What helped you find your way back to safety?

Why We Need This

Life’s pretty good at keeping us off-balance. Work stress, family obligations, health worries, money concerns, everything competing for our attention. Without somewhere to go where we can just stop—even for ten minutes—all that pressure builds up with nowhere to go.

Sanctuary isn’t selfish. It’s not luxury. It’s the breathing room we need.

I’ve noticed that when I skip my morning walks for too long, my mind feels busier. I’m more likely to overthink. It’s as if I didn’t take the time to empty the spam mail in my head. I think too much about things that don’t really matter. But give me twenty minutes walking in the pre-dawn quiet, and I can handle whatever the day brings.

We need places—physical or mental—where we’re not performing, not managing, not solving, not being responsible for anyone else. Just existing. Breathing. Remembering we’re more than our to-do lists and obligations.

Your sanctuary might save you in ways you don’t even realize until it’s not there anymore.

What happens when you go too long without accessing your sanctuary?

Some Things to Think About

Where do you go when life gets overwhelming?

Is it a physical spot – a corner of your garden, your favorite chair, a path you walk regularly? Or is it something you carry with you – a practice, a mindset, a way of breathing that calms you down?

Has your sanctuary changed over the years? What helped at 30 might be different at 50 or 60. Maybe you used to need noise to recharge, now you crave quiet. Or the opposite – solitude used to work, now you prefer gentle company.

Do you need different sanctuaries for different struggles? One for grief, another for daily stress?

What makes somewhere feel safe to you? The lighting? The sounds? The memories? Or something harder to name – like permission to be imperfect, no expectations, freedom to feel whatever you’re feeling?

Your Story Matters

Have you had to find new sanctuary after a big change? A move, a loss, something that shifted everything? How did you rebuild that sense of safety?

Do you share your sanctuary with others, or guard it as private time? Both work – some people recharge together, others need to be alone.

The Invitation

This is your space. Whether your sanctuary is simple or unusual, traditional or quirky, share it. Your story might help someone else who needs to hear it.

Share below. I respond to every comment, and often your experiences help others more than mine do.