A room to oneself


I sit in my new little room–freshly painted last week, that is now my place of escape. I am so excited for this new thing in my life, as I’ve not had a room of my own that wasn’t like a prison, where I could be with just myself–to write, read, craft and perhaps once it gets all decorated even take a quick nap. Though most of all, I am excited that I have a place where I will be able to meet clients and perhaps get into my new yet old work–Shamanistic healing.

I have so much to ponder, and I’ve not had anywhere to be just to think, to be alone in my introverted way–to be quiet or to cry, speak to others, whatever it is that I wanted to do–alone.
I love my partner and my kids, yet, it has felt claustrophobic for me in recent years to have nowhere to escape the noise, the TV, the weird music, the intensity. Already, I feel a sense of restfulness, of calm that I didn’t know I’d missed.

Virginia Woolf was one who thought that every woman should have a room of her own. I agree with her, I don’t know how I made it without. I know–I felt lost, I felt ungrounded, I felt like a refugee, in the way, out of place. But here I am, in my own little space, feeling safe, feeling strong, feeling good. I feel blessed.

Having gotten older, it seems there is so much to ponder. I remember when I was young, and so much was going on, so much was happening, and I often felt such a sense of bewilderment at all the change. It is very much the same now. My body is changing. I am becoming slower, now I find I have asthma and feel out of breath when the wind blows just so, and smoke, dust, pollution,, etc. are an assault to me. Then there’s the pain in my spine, the aching in my joints, the fact that awakening in the morning is a prayer, a thanksgiving, as well as a struggle, just to get onto my feet and become vertical.

My mind is not as it was. I was a college professor once, and I so enjoyed the academic discourse with my students, the joy of excercising ones mind, of learning, and of growth. My mind is still intact, but Goddess knows, I can barely remember my own name some days! I write things down endlessly, I found a little app on my phone to take notes, I don’t always know what my partial thoughts mean, but at least they’re there, and I can know that I can come back to them should I need to.

My emotions are all over the place. I face death at the most random times, and it’s painful to come to grips with a constant reality that people come and go and that those whom I’ve loved will someday be gone–as will I. I have developed a new kind of anxiety, that I don’t remember having before. The world was never really safe, but this time in history feels particularly unsafe, and it feels as though we are constantly living as if to stay out of harms way. To live now, means that if one has their heart open, there is a constant breakage. To watch the cruelty and lack of humaness from the leaders of my country is hard.

Yet, through it all, my spirit feels strong and intact. Each day I am grateful to my Gods for all that I have, and I know that I am certainly luckier than some–I have a home, I have food, I have income of sorts and I have much love in my life in the form of my children, their partners, my partner, my friends and those of my family who still are able to see and love me. I have a small community of like-minded spirits who see me and honor my elderness, and my desire to be of service and offer my wisdom for as long as I breathe breath.

So I will sit here a little longer, enjoy the quiet, enjoy my aloneness, enjoy my place to be. I feel blessed.

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