A Room With a View
The view from my red Poäng Ikea chair comforts me. Most early mornings find me there, journal on my lap and Jazzy at my feet, writing, reading daily wisdom and contemplating my day.
Perched just so in the corner of my writing studio (also known as an office, but when I’m feeling particularly creative, it’s a studio, den or nook), I can nearly feel the sun warming the bricks on the other side of the wall. I watch Old Sol’s rays creep around the corner and splash the yellow daylillies with light.
This morning, before picking up my pen, I sat for the longest time allowing my gaze to rise and fall and then rest on little pieces of inspiration scattered around the room.
The ebb and flow of my flow is symbolized here, I realized, in photos of joyous times and containers of ashes from lives ended. One wall and surface commemorates college pride; its facing wall is a colage of hearts representing my decades of love and fulfillment. In between trinkets sparkle, slogans affirm and book titles inspire me to reach and stretch until I touch my very own star.
It is here that I believe all things are possible. Here, in this place, there is nothing left unfulfilled. My space, my place, my sanctuary, my soft landing, my firm grounding.
From this chair I can look upon pink hibiscus and purple Texas lilacs. When I let myself just be here, the physical me almost melts into ephemeral weightlessness and time is nothing more than tick tocks.
I close my eyes and murmur, be here. The words bubble from my soul for I didn’t make a conscious decision to voice them. I only know they’re here now, sitting, being, no expectation beyond this holy instant.
Oh that everyone could have a view like mine. Please, find yourself a chair and position it so you can sit for a spell, to pause and simply breathe.
Go ahead. You must be first in your day, for this is the point on which the remainder stands.
Give in. You want to, don’t you? If you need a reason or a label, call it self-care. Or call it Dalai Mama time (or Dalai Papa if appropriate).
Sit and soak in the goodness from your spot in heaven’s presence.
Sit and breathe, trusting that you are filling your spiritual tank with the fuel–only the highest octane, my dear–to help your engine run smoothly today.
Sit and take it in because you may need to return here in your mind’s eye before the day is through.
Your place, a sacred spot, is calling to you.