Room Of My Own

Finally! After four years of rearranging the furniture in my living room and lifting my snoozing cat off the mat, I have my own yoga room.

Last week, I left my tiny apartment for good and moved into a new, spacious, light-soaked one in an area that I've been hankering to settle in for the past few years.

Back to the yoga room. It's big enough for two people to glide into Warrior II without jabbing each other in the eye. Two bookshelves stretch languidly on their sides, forming a suface for the altar which is home to a picture of Sacred Heart, the Virgin Mary, Saraswati, Ganesh, a wooden Buddha figurine, a stone from the banks of the Ganges, an Om tile, a pale blue rosary, a strand of mala beads, a deck of Archangel cards, a bowl of various crystals, incense and candles. Sheer pieces of cloth have been draped over the bookshelves to partially conceal the mess of books underneath. The altar sits below two large windows, out of which I gaze as I chant or pray.

Behind me is a gorgeous dark green daybed that was never on the list but which I instantly fell in love with when I saw it. And behind that, a new lamp from IKEA. The miscelleanous items include a foldable chair, a foam block, mats, strap and cushions.

The Healer visited last weekend and declared high approval. Very good vibrations and strong presence of higher entities, she said. I love this room. I love stepping into it and being enveloped by the peace and safety it holds. I love how light spills into it during the day. I love how I can see the stars as I lie on the day bed. I love how I can look at the vast expanse of bright blue or midnight blue above as I kneel at the altar.

Most of all, I love how my practice finally has a place to call home.