Sacred Space

Feng shui and practicality dictate that my home office doubles as a living room. In this space I am surrounded by physical objects that represent the practical and spiritual elements of my life.  I have piles of paper, photographs, coupons, crystals, Wii games and inspirational pieces in plastic frames.

My favorite is a poem that reads:

I am in my favorite room

of windows and wood

quietly

just sitting

(c) Shelley Adler

“When did Grandma write this?”

My 10 yr. old daughter’s question pulled my focus away momentarily, from the myriad of to-do list items begging for my attention.  Looking into her eyes was like looking into a reflective pool of still cool water.  I saw my own eyes looking back at me, and the memories flooded in.

I saw myself as a young girl standing in my mother’s office, a sun room.  It was a warm, wood paneled porch off the master bedroom with large windows on two sides and a beautiful bookcase with stained glass doors.  It overlooked the back yard and in the Indian summers of my childhood was full of fireflies and wild raspberries.

It was her special place to go to when she needed some quiet.

It was the sanctum from which her poetry flowed almost effortlessly; where she was surrounded by books and baubles that reminded her of happier days when she still had a chance of realizing her own dreams, different from those of the Ivy League professor she dutifully married to please her own father.

And when I tip toed through the doorway, I’d peer around the corner of the bookcase into my mother’s eyes.  She would begrudgingly pause from her writing to look up, eyes beaming love in response to my shy smile.

I am miles and years away from that place and that sunny room, still, this feeling is so familiar.

I sit at my desk and wonder.  When my daughter is older, will she remember this room?Will she remember the way the late afternoon sun moves through the hanging crystal on the window overlooking the back yard?   Will she remember the way the light forms rainbows dancing on the walls and ceiling?  Will she tell her daughter about the writer, singer, healer, visionary who is her Mom?

Now I am the Mama with loving, tired eyes using a Mac instead of a stack of yellow note pads and old typewriter.  And like my mother before me and her mother before, I stop working to tell my daughter about the wonderful women in our family.  I tell her how important it is to have her own space so she can create, dream, write, draw, think, read . . . be.

It can be a small desk in the corner of your bedroom, kitchen, living room or a vast office.  It can be your grandmothers rocking chair next to a reading table or a cushion on the floor near an altar.  Wherever it is and however it is constructed, I hope one day she values herself enough to create her own sacred space and maybe in the corner somewhere, she will have a little plastic frame with one of my poems in it.

11 Responses to Sacred Space
  1. Jan
    February 21, 2011 | 8:40 pm

    Lovely piece…definitely continue this mother/daughter blog. Does your girl look like you?

    • Diva-Mama
      February 23, 2011 | 6:09 am

      Thank you! I will and yes, I like to think so. She tells me she does, “just not with the hair” (hers is lighter).

  2. Cathy
    February 22, 2011 | 1:19 pm

    I guess some tears in the afternoon is not a bad thing. This piece was so poignant for me and so beautiful. Your daughter is a lucky girl to have such an awesome Mom. With you as her guide how could she not know to have a space for herself to create.
    This post was so lovely, just like you.
    xoxo

    • Diva-Mama
      February 23, 2011 | 6:12 am

      Tears at any time to release our joy and sadness are part of what make us women such dynamic beings. I appreciate your heartfelt comment.

  3. Eddy Robey
    February 23, 2011 | 10:52 am

    Through centuries of wandering and exile, our foremothers are remembred. The lesson of our history is that sacred space is in our hearts. Your daughter will carry that with her, wherever she roams.

    • Diva-Mama
      March 1, 2011 | 6:09 pm

      I couldn’t agree more Eddy. Thank you for your thoughts and always, for your own wonderful writing.

  4. Anne Martel
    February 24, 2011 | 5:48 am

    Shira,
    Thank you for bringing me into the sacred space of your heart with your love for your mother, your daughter and yourself. What a sweet experience to feel all three generations of warmth and beauty.

  5. Stacey Battat
    February 24, 2011 | 8:11 pm

    Such beautiful writing and certainly the core of a wonderful Thin Thread story for our moms & grandmas edition!

    • Diva-Mama
      March 1, 2011 | 6:08 pm

      Thank you, Stacey. I look forward to being included in the wonderful Thin Threads series. We NEED these kinds of stories!

  6. Jenn Deutsch
    February 25, 2011 | 7:27 pm

    Cantor Shira,

    Just know you are correct that sacred space is sooooo important. Trust me your daughter will remember! I am remembering my Gram and the pink chairs. I know where those pink chairs are now and trust me they are still sacred space. I am thankful for a special person that shares her sacred space. The awards, books and novels and stories are amazing. When she takes me the behind the books, pictures and diplomas and awards and shares the stories behind them it makes me understand life. As I have learned today, sometimes you provide sacred space when you don’t even know it. I know how vital sacred space is and know it’s true meaning and value.

    Jenn

    • Diva-Mama
      March 1, 2011 | 6:08 pm

      Thank God for grandmas and pink chairs! I still have my late Grandmother’s rocking chair. I am sure my daughter will treasure it as much as I do.

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