A week ago, my mom told me about the roof of our garage unit. Originally, her boyfriend planned on making it a deck or a studio, but decided against it when the house was being built. He contemplates doing so, which I, since discovering this gem, vehemently hope he does.

I spent about three hours up there and it was maybe one of the most peaceful times I’ve ever felt in my life. The only other time, outside of childhood, I can remember feeling that was early this summer when we house sat for my mom’s friends. My mom and her boyfriend left to go to the gym, and I decided I would get a chair, climb up the ladder, and just sit up there and read.

I read, took some pictures because it’s quite a view, but the best moments were when I stop and just sit there for a couple minutes and do absolutely nothing. I don’t know what it is about these moments, but they make me feel infinitely more creative; my mind goes into overdrive and I start to think about things I want to do, but more so it completely changes my perspective. It’s these moments at peace where my mind stops being so rational and logical, traits I’ve grown to love over the years, and starts to think of things in much more abstract ways; I reflect, I think, I imagine in a much more infinite way.

As much as I love that feeling, it’s unsustainable. The second I come back down off the rooftop, the creative feeling slowly dissipates back into the boundedness of the actual ground. And I’m okay with that. Like I said, I enjoy my characteristic rationality and I don’t think I could be the person who occupies that rooftop space at all times, nor am I the person to actively chase it.

I welcome its presence, but know when to say goodbye as it leaves. It’ll come back; it did today.