Tuesday, February 19, 2008
After our children were out of the house, we did an addition. We had already added space for them when we were a growing family, but this new space was definitely for us. It includes a den with large windows on three sides and a very comfortable sofa which is perfect for reading or listening to music. The downstairs of this new space, though, is what makes me the happiest.
It has evolved. We moved the treadmill down there first, then all my exercise videos. (I am reminded here of a quote: "Watch exercise videos and don't do them.") Then I started meditating and got meditation cushions and inspirational books and put them in there. I branched out from doing just photograph cards to making them with Japanese paper after visiting a store called The Paper Source in Chicago. So I set up a desk which stays covered in layers of beautiful paper and hole punches of circles and dragonflies and stars. I began a writing class and on the other side of the room there is a desk with a lamp, dictionary, grammar book, Frank Warren's Post Secret book for prompts, my meditation timer, and my writing journal. The writing desk faces the window where I keep orchids that are dormant. There is one orchid in bloom right now. It is what I call "my sobriety orchid" because I bought it the week I quit drinking and it bloomed constantly for almost two years. I want to keep it downstairs for only me to enjoy.
I go into this room for the first time at around six a.m. each day. I do a yoga tape and then write for fifteen minutes. I am now beginning to see the sun come up as I finish writing, and the birds sing. Today my cat sat at the door meowing to come in. I made him wait until the timer went off.
When I walk into this room, I feel inspired. The smells of the room, the sight of beautiful paper waiting to be made into cards that will grace the mailboxes of people I know and don't know, my writing desk with all the tools I need to make word art, the inspirational books and my meditation cushions - I bow in honor to this sacred space as I enter the door, and again as I leave.