a lesson from my bedroom (space/home)

What is space? What is home?

When I moved to Connecticut, the theater I’m working out placed me in this big farmhouse with the rest of the apprentices. It’s this old building built in the early 1800’s and you can feel it in the cracked and dusty walls, smell it in the old carpets and wood, and see it in the sometimes moldy ceilings.

It took a bit to adjust to this new living situation. I had just spent the last couple years living in a brand new mansion with shiny hardwood floors and marble countertops in the city of Irvine where basically everything was built in the last 30 years.

However, I’ve been no stranger to odd living situations. My family and I spent 2 years living in a tiny cabin on a yogic ashram where it only consisted of 2 bunk beds and that’s it, but that’s a story for another time.

The point is, I adapted to this creaky and spirit filled house (literally there are so many ghosts who live here).

Despite the ghosts, cobwebs, and mold, my room became my spiritual sanctuary. I saged the space almost weekly to clear out any unwanted energy and spirits (and believe me, there is a lot of energy that accumulates from a couple hundred year old house).

I laid out my crystals, moon deck, and yoga mat. I set intentions in every corner. I hung up my mandala tapestry and Lakshmi posters. It became my own and safe space to practice yoga, meditate, create manifestations, read, write, and dream. It became my creative and magical haven.

In all my 23 years of life, it’s only the second time I’ve had my own room. The only other time I’ve had my own room was when I was a sophomore in college, so you can imagine how luxurious it felt to finally have a space that was mine.

Right after Christmas, a pipe froze and cut off the water supply in our farmhouse so myself and all the other apprentices had to move out to one of the new cottages they built for the students about 3 years ago.

This building was brand new. The lighting in the bathrooms made you look gorgeous. I no longer felt the energy of the spirits. There’s just no other way to describe it besides, very clean and pristine.

It wasn’t up until this week (about 2 months later) that they finally fixed the broken/frozen pipe and we were able to move back into the farmhouse.

Instead of being overjoyed to move back into my creative space, for some reason, I felt myself resisting so hard. Every time I walked into this old building and opened my room I instead felt cluttered and stressed.

What was once spiritual felt stressful and what was once creative felt cluttered.

All I saw now were clothes strewn everywhere, spilling out of the drawers and all over every nook and cranny. My carpet covered in sand (guilty merm over here), each surface  piled high with books, pages of notes, beauty products, health products, shoes, crystals, etc, you NAME it.

I suddenly became aware of how much STUFF I own and it really stressed me out. I was resisting moving back in because I felt like I could no longer think in this space – there was too much going on! I craved the clean, pristine, clean slate of the cottage I had been staying in.

Then it hit me, that my room – my once magical, creative space is completely a metaphor for my brain. All the stuff and extra junk, that I frankly don’t need is taking up unneccesary space and is causing me to feel weighed down and cluttered.

Well, how will I solve this problem? How will I clear out the old to bring in the new? By deep cleaning my space.

By examining each item and deciding what I need and what no longer serves me.

This idea of my physical space – my physical home – serves as a metaphor for my mind and thoughts. I will take stock of all my thoughts and keep what I need and release what no longer serves me.

I don’t need to escape to the clean and pristine new building to have a clear mind. I need to face what I’ve been avoiding, face all of my SHIT and start clearing things out, one by one.

My room reminds me that I live in abundance. It reminds me that I must confront things I may have been pushing under the rug or shoving into the closet.

It is showing me what space and being at home truly mean.

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