A Space to Call My Own

For Mother's Day, my husband got me a sign to hang on the door that says, "Welcome to the Nut House". I have been eyeing something along those lines for a while because it captures the craziness of our lives.

Author, Jodi Piccoult, says in one of her books that every life has a song...a melody that captures the rhythm of how we live.

I have mentioned before that my song is probably the William Tell Overture.

Which makes me reminisce about a time when life was not so busy. I was twenty-one years old and on a three month trip to Italy. I have a dear friend who lives there and had gone to visit her and her family for a second time.

Upon my arrival, she ushered me in to a very compact what-used-to-be closet. They had made the room in to a bedroom with a little fold down cot. The space probably measured five feet by eight feet. It was smaller than my current bathroom, which, let me tell you, is really small!

When you walked in to this space, the bed/cot was immediately to the right and you had to climb a ladder to get in to it. To the left was a bare shelf where I could store any books and/or journals, including my Italian Dostoevsky novel that I was attempting to read (a very lofty undertaking...I should have started out with The Poky Little Puppy).

I unpacked my suitcase and felt peaceful. Without the clutter of life. This was my space. And I treasured it.

Fast forward to today. I've gone from single to a family of five and a half. I am maintaining t-ball and baseball schedules, volunteering at the kids' school, date nights with my hubby, etc. Life is just plain, wonderfully busy.

And so, when I saw Toni Morrison, Nobel and Pulitzer Prize winner, on Oprah talking about how everyone needs their own space, my ears perked up. My own space? You're talking to a woman who uses the bathroom with a kid on her lap half the time (we're having some separation issues).

I began to fantasize about this space. I started looking through Ikea catalogues at cheap desks. I wanted to create a space to do my writing and work on picture albums. And you'll never guess what happened. As I was driving home yesterday, I spotted a beautifully handcrafted desk at a garage sale for twenty dollars. I immediately pulled over and laid my claim to that precious piece of furniture that meant so much more to me than the wood itself. It represented something to call my own. A place to create and dream.

So as I sit here in my roughly five by eight foot space, I am reminded that you don't have to be single to have your own little corner. You just have to create it for yourself. Thank you, Toni, for the inspiration.