This week’s theme is “finding the Sacred in the ordinary.” And today, I’m finding the Sacred in my own living room.
My living room is large and, as you can see from the pictures, almost completely empty—for the moment. There are a couple of lamps in there. And a tiny table. And a dog bed. That’s about it. We recently got so sick of our ratty old sofa, we hauled it out to the alley. And we decided our comfortable glider would go nicely in our bedroom. And the two end tables we had in the living room suddenly seemed perfect for the upstairs. And so, we now have a nearly empty room.
I have decided I love empty rooms. My big, unfurnished living room is a perfect place to write—or simply sit. (Of course, you have to sit on the floor, but that’s okay). Without furniture, the room feels like a void, but a good, sort of Zen void. It is strangely welcoming. It doesn’t have any points to make, any baggage to carry. It reminds me of starting a new story or essay, something that is little more than an idea waiting to happen. My empty living room is like a blank computer screen, with nothing on it but a little cursor blinking patiently. It’s open to possibilities.
Before long, our living room will be filled up again. We’ve already ordered a new couch and a large chair. Drapes, a carpet, new lamps, and various other items will be added one by one. Over time, our living room will take on a personality. I’m hoping for something warm and charming, perhaps with a bit of sass.
In the meantime, I’m spending time in the room as it is. Empty. Open. Waiting.
