When I returned from Camp Mighty I had some ideas. And I realized that for my ideas to come to life they (and I) had to have a space. We have a large house and after much mulling I decided that I would claim this weird little non-room sitting area in our bedroom as my own. With the blessing of my beloved, of course.
I decided that before I had the room I needed to get it all cleaned out and furnished appropriately. But where to put all the things? It’s sitting room acting as a junk drawer.
THEN! I created a Pinterest board for it! Which is a nice way to organize ideas and inspiration, but a terrible way of getting actual progress to happen. I did buy a lovely, simple candle for my writing desk, though. You know, the imaginary writing desk.
Then I hemmed. Then I hawed. Then I decided I needed to clean and organize my closet so it could contain at least half of the junk room. However, our mostly unfinished closet needs shelving and storage installations, which cost time and money.
And I want my space! NOW.
I was telling part of this story to my best friend yesterday and I can’t remember my exact phrase, but it went something like, “I need to stop waiting until the space is ready. I just need to make some space.” I love what happens when I get out of my head and get verbal.
I came home last night, grabbed some orange oil and a cloth and cleaned the sewing table in the sitting room. I lifted out the sewing machine, latched it into its case and reassembled the table top. I grabbed an extra dining room chair that we stash in the living room and set it in front of the table. I topped the table with some beloved trinkets and my technologies.
The table hasn’t been sanded and painted. The walls are still contractor ecru. There’s no shelving or big comfy chairs. The clutter surrounds me. But as I sit here and type at the same table my mom used to make me things, I’m comforted. This space is enough.
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