Thanks for the feedback guys. I finally came up with something. Between the ages of birth and 7, I lived next door to a boy my age who was a daily playmate to me. Behind his house, on the edge of the woods there was a group of large boulders with gravel around them. We would bring our big yellow Tonka trucks down there and play for hours. Made forts out of the boulders and tree branches. Climbed on the boulders and jumped off. Once we made "dynamite" out of some sticks and some string and tried to blow up a boulder by lighting the string with matches. It didn't work, but we got caught with the matches by his mother and got in trouble. That was a safe place, a world unto itself with no grownups and no older siblings to bother us. Just doing the work of boyhood. We called that place: "Down By The Rocks" and I'll be going there in my mind regularly from now on. Joinme there if you like. I'll be the boy with short blond hair and a big smile.
"Suffering was the only thing that made me feel I was alive,
Thought thats just what it cost to survive in this world,
...now I haven't got time for the pain... " -Carly Simon now 67!