I am really, really, really looking forward to moving to our own place. Why? I’ve been reading a lot of different blogs lately… People having their own little sanctuaries here and there… some in parks underneath a shady tree, others in coffee shops sipping on a latte, still others through the ‘klink’ of ice cubes in a glass in a bar…
My wife and I? We have no sanctuary. We have free rent, but we have no sanctuary. Our lives always on display, our mistakes revealed, our weaknesses publicized to our parents who we love very much and greatful for in spite of it all.
I always feel like I’m under a microscope waiting for that word of criticism, that word of disapproval.
My sanctuary? A quiet room. No radio. No TV. No computer. A cherry wood laquer finished desk with a classic desk lamp. Along the side, a leather couch. One one of the walls, one handpainted portrait of Evelyn and I… together.
Each wall 11 feet high full of books. Vaulted ceilings so there won’t be any thump thump thumping of size 6 sneakers above. Doors are lockable of course, to keep the tattle taleing and whining out.
Right next to the window? A Single chair, rocker that will last the generations to come. Book in hand, or hugging a nice warm cup of hot chocolate I will relax, rocking back and forth and enjoying the stillness and peacefulness of our sanctuary. For one brief moment each day, I will be sequestered from the outside world which is my life.
And where will this room be? Certainly not where we are currently… not in our parent’s basement. This will be in our first home… and in every home we will live in. It’s our sanctuary. OUR sanctuary. And I will not allow our sanctuary elude us any further.
I need to study.