Growing up, I shared a bedroom with my sister. She kind of dictated how everything went, and even after she moved out and moved back in, her cats took over my room. When she finally moved out permanently when I was 14, I immediately took control. I painted my room a bright orange, got rid of my bunk bed, and plastered the walls in stuff of my own.
(This is my room circa 2007.) It was always a mess, and I didn't spend much time in it. When I was 16 and broke up with my longtime boyfriend, I ended up spending major amounts of time in my room. I got a larger bed (with a frame!) and reorganized it constantly. I would come home from school, sit on my bed and think. I would stare out the window, listen to the occasional song, and usually fall asleep. It was a way for me to numb out, and it was a daily ritual I followed to the tee. (Currently, my sister is back in this room. It is still orange, and still messy.)
This is my bedroom now. I don't know if there's anywhere in the world that I love to be more than lying on my bedroom floor. I spend so much time in this room, all of it voluntary. It is everything I have ever wanted in a room: calm, clean, good. I have a desk to write at, a comfortable bed, windows, and a clean closet. I am a firm believer that your personal space is a reflection of your head space, so when I don't want to put away my laundry or let things pile up, I know I'm not doing so hot.
It seems like a trivial thing, but I cherish my room so much. A few months ago, I didn't have a bedroom. I had zero personal space, just a mattress on the floor. And now I have so much, and so much freedom with it. In my room, I am simply me. I constantly want to have people over, just to sit in my room with me. I read in here, sleep, eat, dance. It is a safe space for me. I am completely comfortable. I have room. Room to breathe. Room to dance. Room to laugh. Room to grow. I have a room of my own.
I don't know if this is okay, but I think my room is holy. I think it is intimate, warm, and simple. I feel close to God in my room. I feel close to myself. I don't think holy is a far off, cold concept. I think holiness is small things (as well as big). I think holiness is me lying on my floor in the afternoon sun, feeling my breath and being aware of a God who loves me intensely.
Holiness, to me, is room to be. To love.
Ahhh Sarah, I love this post and your room! My room is so special to me and I always think of it as a reflection of myself. I love spending time in my room, especially at night when everyone else in the house is asleep. It really is like a haven — I couldn't agree with you more! xox
ReplyDelete"Holiness, to me, is room to be. To love."
ReplyDeleteI love that so much.. and I agree w/ you too! Our rooms are a reflection of ourselves and what we like, which is why we get so excited to decorate them. Like, my room has bright pink and yellow striped walls.. and i'm all about bright colors, haha. Your room is beautiful and peaceful and lovely, I would love to lay on that floor and dance.