Worry and tension bleed into and out of sleepless nights. A nagging fear seeps into the joy of the morning. Mercury moves out of retrograde while Mars remains. A full Blue Moon comes and goes. Tales of strife and woe carry on the wind, whispers of agitated citizens sound from the television, and the general but ever-increasing malaise of the world creeps with insidious and sinister intent into our most hallowed moments. There are perilous times. Tumultuous times. And the year isn’t quite done yet.
I’ve been trying to do what I would normally do in times of stress: seek out beauty and calm, in art and literature and nature, all from the brightest spot in our home – the living room. It’s become the place where the mind can travel, with books of art exhibits we never got to see in person, plants from the four corners of the world, and a cozy conversation couch that is mostly shrouded in silence these days. I don’t mind the quiet, though, and it is here that I have crafted a space to see us through the coming fall and winter in a place of peace and repose.
This is the room where I meditate, sitting lotus-style on the little rug in the middle of it all. It’s also the room where I read, or simply sit to ponder the passing of a day, or the pause before bed in the evening. It goes through its own seasons in the span of twenty-four hours, from the dim gray stillness of dawn through the sunny brilliance of noon, to the hushed, softly-lit tenderness of night. My favorite time may be the late morning, when these photos were taken, as the sun pours in even on certain clear winter days, reminding us there is still light in the world.
