I joke about how counselors urge people to go to their “happy place.”
I joke about everything.
But as a counselor, I know the value of holding a place in your mind that is serene and peaceful. Someone experiencing emotional distress may need to immerse themselves in a memory of such a place.
But what if your happy place isn’t physical, but is instead another type of immersion?
*I’m 16 years old, on the way to my girlfriend’s house in the ’77 Chevy truck my father lent me. She lives a couple of miles away. In 1984, Angleton, Tx, has about 30,000 residents, so nothing is especially far from my house. The Gulf of Mexico is about 10 miles to the south, and indeed, today I will pick up Lisa and take her to the beach.
The thing is, a railroad track runs down the middle of our town, and on any given day, a train can block every crossing and bring traffic to a halt.
I am at the crossing behind her house, windows down, waiting for the train to amble by, listening to the Who album Who’s Next? on the 8-track.
It’s a cheap Sears brand player, and the speakers are behind the bench seat. “Baba O’ Riley” starts, and something unbelievable happens: I am immersed in the sound of the opening synthesizer. I cannot localize it. It sounds and feels as if it is coming from all around me. The train takes long enough that I get to listen to the whole song. I try to explain what happened to Lisa, though she doesn’t seem to grasp it. Nonetheless, I’m affected.
I start experimenting with multi-speaker stereo setups in my bedroom, but cannot replicate the experience.
*I am 26 years old, and “surround sound” VCRs are available on the market. I dutifully purchase all of the gear, run wires along the perimeter of my apartment living room, and test the sound with a VHS tape of Pulp Fiction. The tiny satellite speakers put out meager sounds, but the immersion effect doesn’t happen. The search continues.
*I am 30 years old, and a coworker gives me a ticket to an organ recital at the Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center. A gorgeous venue that hosts classical performances, the Meyerson is designed to convey music well. The sound is everywhere, and for the duration of the program, I am in my happy place, fully immersed.
*It’s August of 2025. I am 56 years old, streaming “Inferno,” from Dante Symphony, S 109 by Franz Liszt. We have a 5.1 surround sound setup in the living room.
My latest hearing test says that I’ve lost 8% speech recognition in the last 5 years, though right now, I’m surrounded by the Berlin Philharmonic.
I am there, eyes closed, listening to brass and strings, in a place where time has almost stopped, hearts aren’t broken, and I am safe and welcomed, lousy hearing and all.
This.
