The Best Room

“My “best” room, however, my withdrawing room, always ready for company, on whose carpet the sun rarely fell, was the pine wood behind my house. Thither in summer days, when distinguished guests came, I took them, and a priceless domestic swept the floor and dusted the furniture and kept the things in order.”

-Henry David Thoreau, Walden

This quote will forever resignate in my soul. From the pain of 2015 and 2016 I found a love of nature.  A deep love that I hope always remains. My “best room” became my she shed and the sitting area that adjoins it. Who would have thought when we bought this house seven years ago that the old storage shed could give so much to so many. Tears were cried. Laughs were shared. Dreams wore born. Hope was found – I found God in this space.

A safe creative space was created from an old delopitated shed. The “she shed” was created from blood, sweat and tears – literally. My idle mind was quieted by the sound of a hammer and saw. My hands were given the power to write some of the most amazing stories and worn in journals have covered the grey plywood floor.  My daughters helped paint the walls and those closet to me have shared their heart and soul in this space. You can’t help but open up to the universe in this tiny little space. My heart has been made full in this space.

Then it overflowed into the yard. Grass was replaced with gravel and river rocks. Old chairs were bought off buy sell trade and more deep healing conversations have taken place in those chairs than in my therapist office. Birds are welcomed with bird feeders and friends are welcomed by spirit and calm. An orchestra of windchimes and birds  fill the backyard with a song only Mother Nature can create. Peace is found in the space daily. It is my “best room”.

Do you have a “best room” and if not you need one. I believe every woman needs their own safe place that is theirs – not to be shared with kids, husbands, dirty dishes, laundry. We carry a lot on our shoulders and the “best room” in my home reminds me that I don’t have to always carry it. I can put it down for a moment or two or three and breathe.