Room for me

Maybe the most cradled security or identity feeling I have ever known, my whole life long, centers on my own personal space.  It is one the earliest senses of self I have and begins in my bedroom when I lived outside Annapolis.  We moved there in 1989, the summer I began middle school.  You know what I mean by sense of self right?  A first real foothold on the inside terrain called Kelly that's been with me all these years.

What stands out is me making my room my own.  Right down to a sign on the door called Kelly's Place.

Writing about it now brings back a lineage of memories that predate middle school.  The back cubby of our garage in Severn, concrete that extended on the left beyond the space for cars.  I used cardboard boxes to establish my own little nooks and special places back there.  My wonderland, amid the spider webs and dust and athletic gear of Sean and dad's, that's what it felt like.  Magic.  This was the space I relied on to create Murder Mysteries and Haunted Train Rides for the other kids in the neighborhood.  Or Grammy's attic in Brooklyn, the corner where the slant of eaves triangled off a spot between the dresser with the vanity mirror and the bookshelf to the right.  This was my spot, where I arranged stuffed animals and a typewriter that belonged to either Sharon or Sue.  Or actually, probably Paul.

At 21 I dropped out of college for the second time.  That's when, on suggestion from a book called Simple Abundance, I purposefully created a corner in mom's basement for me.  To "find" myself.  This was the first time I consciously used the tool of a sacred space, though back then, in early 99, I don't think I used it more than three or four times.  But to be sure, every single home I have lived in since that winter at mom's I have made my space.  In Chestertown on Mt. Vernon and at Truslow Road and Anngar Farm I actually had my own little room for me.  In Easton, too.  Every other place, including Ocean Pines where it currently is, I took with me that first chair, from back in mom's basement in 1999.

It's where and how I charge my battery.  When I went on the road I made a travelling alter and so long as it and its contents were next to me I knew peace.  In Huntington the alter went next to my bed so my bed became my space, my little nest.  This morning, at about 9am, Nici off surfing alone because this was even more important than that, I finished my room.

I didn't even know this room existed until I moved in, it's a little extension off the closet and the door was closed when I looked at the place.  Now it's my office.  Where the magic to write and grow and learn and evolve through grad school will begin.  My little room for me is the most quiet place in the world, and still, too, like I am tucked in the belly of the earth.  Even dark as it is back there, I swear it glistens.

So that's that.  Erika, who arrived last night, who launched her book from Barnes and Noble in Annapolis where we're from.   And me in my magic room finally, also arrived, back to self.  Home.

Begin Again

Mmm.  Vampire Weekend not crazy about this band never have been.  But this certain song from Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist is on and not only is it fitting my whimsy but I like the Eleanor Rigby instrumental.  Now I am reminded to rent that movie next time my legs need movement and my breath fresh air so that I walk to Blockbuster a couple blocks from here.

Feels like a long time since I've written.  Now New Slang is on.  Second time I've heard it today  and seriously this is one of my top five favorite songs ever.  That's a big claim I know.  Not sure why.  It just gets something inside me worked out whenever I hear it, something that otherwise is almost always wordless.  I always feel better, more like myself after I hear it.  Always.

And so that's what I'm on here to download today.  About feeling more like me.  Returning to center.  Yoga today was so awesome.  What.  A. Return.  My teacher during final relaxation said Let your outter body fall in to your inner body.  Let you inner body fall in to your core.  Now let your core fall in to silence.  It's been a long time--over a week--since I've been able to sit in silence.  Actually no close to two.  For whatever reason I've been hectic inside and missing my center.  Which is what happens all the time when I am going through changes since I'm human.  No matter how many times I live the example I will also always, always forget that taking quiet time to connect to me in the morning is literally the best gift I can give not only myself but the whole world.  I'm so much more inuitive, relaxed and also engaged then.

I stood up after shavasana--final relaxation--was over and thought yep, Begin Again.  Which is a Zazen or Buddhist line reminding us to always keep a loosely open mind.  When the chatter in mediation returns, Begin Again.  But I'm an action girl, I care about applying and walking it the most.  So to me Begin Again is just that.  So what it's been close to two weeks since I've had, or should I say in truth, believed in my practice.

It's all good... Begin Again....

Really peaceful on the mountain.

A critter ate our interenet chord, so today in town I got five dollars worth of food to sign on.  That's why I've been MIA--so dont worry, I'm okay!!

 It's really, really peaceful on the mountain, so it all fits.

No reception or internet, and I actually sorta like it this way!