Tiny houses

I continue to be fascinated with the tiny house movement, the paring down of belongings to take up the least amount of space. Sometimes, though, I do wonder if, in all the effort to go small, to make a small footprint, we fool ourselves. Not that the answer is big houses or the accumulation of more possessions, but simply that, we all live in tiny houses already, no matter how big our living room. Maybe the idea really is, by living tiny, we expand into life beyond our walls.

No matter how big 

Our living room, we all live

In tiny houses.

Wednesday afternoon

Still working with limits. The office holds nap space for me as well, which in turn allows space for more to happen here. I never really know what's next.

The children are gone.

My head has cleared

For the next client.

The bent pine out my window,

Framed by glass,

Holds the snow.

My office holds the echo

Of children

Gone home.

Today holds someone new

She will arrive through the snow

To add to the mosaic

The office is building.

Room

With thanks to Liz Meade and her musings today on the Annunciation.  http://meademusings.blogspot.com/

May every space in our life be declared holy space.

I am grateful

For the blue chair

The blanket

My first client who cancelled

Today.

I pray she will heal.

I am grateful 

For time to drink coffee,

Notice the sunshine.

No one else is here.

I am grateful for an empty space

Like Mary’s

Which has room

For God to fill.

This space

Sometimes a space is more than a space.  Sometimes something is holy, not by anything we do or say, but really only because God has chosen to inhabit it boldly.

I write this for you

My client who is not here  

Today.

I write this for you

My therapist who is also

Not here

And never will be.

I write this for me

For all who have been here,

For all who will be here,

For me who sits

Calm and quiet in this space

I have made;

In this space

I have loaned.

This space

Is more than an office.

This space

Holds so much more

Than I can name.

I write this for all

Who share it

And even for all

Who won’t.

Library

I forgot about the library.  I dare not check out books with such disorder at home, but the library space is amazing in its order and simplicity, not to mention the view out the window.  It is balm.  I have even discovered the Vish Puri murder mystery series.  They will transport me... to India.

Once again I find

The library.

The voices are low

And pleasant.

There is no background music.

I sit and face

A bank of windows

Floor to ceiling,

Look out on golden trees

Against a pearl gray sky.

I imagine the kitchen painted

In fall colors.

Here is

More order

Than I have encountered

In days.

Here is big space

In big order.

Soft voices.

Library low and pleasant

Leaves gold yellow,

Pearl gray sky

Through wide-paned windows

Floor to ceiling.

I have made the office spare

The week has been overly full.  Sometimes I sit in my office, my blissfully spare office, and simply breathe.  I aim to make it a breathing place for my clients as well.  

I have made the office spare:

Walls of warm beige,

Decoration minimal,

Striped rug for color

On the floor.

There is room here

For many stories

To come and go,

Re-ordered,

Re-written,

Re-captured week by week.

Here hope might be reclaimed

Like so many lost coins

Under the sofa cushions,

From the plaid chair

Opposite,

Or more directly

From Above.

I wish I could meet everyone here

But I am not in charge

Of every space I occupy.

I am barely in charge

Of this one.