I couldn’t wait until Spring. Something needed to shift, and soon.
For weeks, I had felt cluttered energetically, held captive by the sheer amount of crap in our living space. Since moving into our Seattle apartment two years ago, our joint workspace — where I do my biz-thing and my honey sits reading undergrad applications every winter — sat in a poorly-lit corner of our living room. Along with the years of time and experience, the space had also collected a solid layer of paperwork, financial documents, countless decorations and motivational sticky-notes.
From its corner, just across the room from our couch, the workspace communicated chaos and a loss of boundaries. It reminded me that there was no room for intentional rest or time away from work.
It began with a feeling of unease.
I craved a feeling of groundedness, a sense of peace and comfort.
When I walked into our living room, I found my energy triggered negatively by the synthetic items scattered throughout. They, in combination with a desk overflowing with tax documents and digital screens, left me feeling hemmed in, claustrophobic at the thought of all the stuff squeezed into our small (and beloved) space.
I desperately wanted an escape, to feel connected to earth and air and nature, to be able to breathe again. I grew anxious at the thought of spending time in a room that left my spirit cluttered and chaotic.
Finally, a few days ago, fresh off the heels of a week of learning about rest and soul-focused self-care, something in me broke. Or rather, broke open.
I realized that, just like my soul, my living space needed a little T.L.C., as well.
Two weeks ago, I experienced a soul pruning, cutting back on all the striving and the hustling to make room for more.
A few days ago, we did the same for our home.
To make room for peace, we moved our workspace into the unused breakfast nook and brought the warm wood table out into the open. Healthy business boundaries, confirmed.
To make room for comfort, we swept our couch against a wall and filled it with only the cuddliest of blankets. All in the name of intimacy and connection and seeing each other clearly.
To give us space to breathe, we said goodbye to our growing pile of donations and brought in some baskets to collect wandering knick-knacks, dog toys, and stray cords. Clear space, clear eyes, clear heart.
Cutting back to make room for more.
Your space is a reflection of the state of your spirit.
For me, that means that I crave an environment that feels clean and grounded and connected and gives me the space to grow, creatively, spiritually, and emotionally.
What do you most deeply desire to feel? How does your space, whether in life or business or both, reflect that? What do you need to shift or gift or create to make your environment feel the way that you most deeply want to feel?