A New Space
Last Sunday the humidity in the apartment finally got to The Thinker. He unpeeled himself from the couch and said, "Ok, help me move this out."
'This' was a slightly worn round wooden table in the kitchen that multitasked as my culinary work station, dining table and writing desk. It was sturdy and large enough to accommodate a spread of books and ingredients, and the fact that it is wooden made me love it more. The only problem was that the kitchen is one of the warmest rooms in the apartment. Eating and working was usually an unpleasantly sweaty affair. I had tried to drag the table into the living room but couldn't figure out how to dismantle it so that it would fit through the kitchen door. These are the occasions when someone like The Thinker comes in handy.
Within twenty minutes he had the table dismantled in the kitchen and reassembled in the living room. We carried it to the balcony, arranged the chairs around it and sat down to wipe our brows. And that's when we realised what an amazing space we had just created.
I live on the top floor of my apartment block which means I enjoy the freshest air and the best view. Stretching over the horizon right ahead of us was the city skyline. The Thinker and I had spent many evenings sitting on stiff chairs, drinks in hand as we watched day turn into night. Now we were able to do more than that.
Since this spot of redecorating I have eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner outside. I have worked, read, daydreamed and chatted online outside. And today, I looked up from an article I was writing and realised how much happiness this little space is bringing me. This is as close as I have gotten to living outdoors and I am cherishing every minute of it. It even struck me today that this space could very well inspire a meditation practice. Maybe.
Being outdoors is magical. It creates spaciousness and a sense of calm. It's quiet up here which invites reflection and contemplation. And once I've reached my quota of thinking for the day, I watch the rest of the world move along in front of me. Then I settle into my cushion of bliss and thank The Thinker for his flash of inspiration.
And before I go to bed each night, I touch my table gently and dip my head in gratitude for the simple priviledge of being gifted with this space.
Last Sunday the humidity in the apartment finally got to The Thinker. He unpeeled himself from the couch and said, "Ok, help me move this out."
'This' was a slightly worn round wooden table in the kitchen that multitasked as my culinary work station, dining table and writing desk. It was sturdy and large enough to accommodate a spread of books and ingredients, and the fact that it is wooden made me love it more. The only problem was that the kitchen is one of the warmest rooms in the apartment. Eating and working was usually an unpleasantly sweaty affair. I had tried to drag the table into the living room but couldn't figure out how to dismantle it so that it would fit through the kitchen door. These are the occasions when someone like The Thinker comes in handy.
Within twenty minutes he had the table dismantled in the kitchen and reassembled in the living room. We carried it to the balcony, arranged the chairs around it and sat down to wipe our brows. And that's when we realised what an amazing space we had just created.
I live on the top floor of my apartment block which means I enjoy the freshest air and the best view. Stretching over the horizon right ahead of us was the city skyline. The Thinker and I had spent many evenings sitting on stiff chairs, drinks in hand as we watched day turn into night. Now we were able to do more than that.
Since this spot of redecorating I have eaten breakfast, lunch and dinner outside. I have worked, read, daydreamed and chatted online outside. And today, I looked up from an article I was writing and realised how much happiness this little space is bringing me. This is as close as I have gotten to living outdoors and I am cherishing every minute of it. It even struck me today that this space could very well inspire a meditation practice. Maybe.
Being outdoors is magical. It creates spaciousness and a sense of calm. It's quiet up here which invites reflection and contemplation. And once I've reached my quota of thinking for the day, I watch the rest of the world move along in front of me. Then I settle into my cushion of bliss and thank The Thinker for his flash of inspiration.
And before I go to bed each night, I touch my table gently and dip my head in gratitude for the simple priviledge of being gifted with this space.
posted by starlight | 7:12 AM
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