Meaningful Space

I have an office at home now, which is awesome. It is pleasant space, intentionally created. I'm not very artsy, not very design-oriented. But the process of moving in here has been significant to me in pondering what is important and beneficial, both in "practical" terms and in the deeper parts of being human.

There are three sturdy, adjustable bookcases -- enough for the books which really "fit" in my office, without being so much that I'd try to put all of the other books in there, too. So the books I use are pretty much all within arm's reach, which is convenient.

These books represent significant influences in my life, people who have played a part in shaping my thoughts and my character. I haven't met most of the authors, of course, but have been changed in some way by many of them. Even more, they remind me of real-life people who have challenged and encouraged me in so many ways. As I work, the books around me stand to silently proclaim that none of us exists in a vacuum, none stands alone.

The bookshelves have other stuff on them, too, including a handmade doll, movie action figure, clay cup, stuffed bear, and several sculptures. They are touchable, holdable. Their value is far beyond monetary, far beyond mere intellectual ideas. These items represent significant people, a-ha experiences, and line-in-the-sand moments. All hold stories -- of hope, transformation, challenge, purpose, legacy, life, love. These are stories close to my heart, the kind that come to mind often in conversation, though not always spoken aloud.

There is a storage cabinet in the office, too, and I am trying really hard to figure out how to use it well. Office supplies are a potential source of constant clutter, which I'm trying to eliminate. But the stuff in here is actually useful and gets used, and I've narrowed it down to what truly belongs here. The biggest exception, of course, is the Dust Bunnies on the top shelf, who stand watch against excess clutter forming in their cabinet domain :)

The window is south-facing, so the sun streams in with the warmth of its light. In the winter, I will be able to see the dawn from the cozy warmth of this little room. The progression of the day is apparent through this window, too, a reminder of the passing of time, of the importance of each day -- and all the more clear as I look out into this neighborhood with its people whom I am still just beginning to get to know and love.

And, in my little home office, pretty much every day is Take Your Dog to Work Day. Once he's been fed and outside in the morning, Sirius naps awhile, usually settling nearby on the rug. He snores and twitches occasionally, and sometimes meanders to a new spot and walks in little circles to create a virtual little nest like his relatives in the wild. He doesn't do much, and I enjoy having him nearby. He doesn't have to be useful to be loved. None of us does.