Your sacred space

Many of us have a place in our lives where we feel especially free and creative. They are places we retreat when we want to recover from a bad day, celebrate a good day, think through a knotty problem, or write the first draft of our next chapter.

Some people head for the hills and the parks, but sacredness can come anywhere: one friend confided that she wrote her best grad school papers in a pizza parlor. Sometimes your entire home, and sometimes a special room in your home, will be a sacred space.

There are two things to remember. First, you will feel at home in a new city or a new life after you have found a sacred space. Second, you cannot go searching for a sacred space. Your sacred space will find you.

I have enjoyed several sacred spaces as I've moved around the country. Often my sacred space is a coffee shop. Years ago, visiting at a university in New England, I was stuck on a research paper. One weekend I drove down to New Haven, where I found a coffee shop with just the right vibes. An outline drafted itself in half an hour.

In Philadelphia, I particularly liked the Tuscany coffee shop, just around the corner from my apartment. The counter staff got to know me. At first I had to convince them that I really prefer raw, untoasted bagels and yes, I know it's January, but I still want my coffee iced. I first began to feel at home when they handed me one of their Christmas cards for "regulars" with a coupon for a free cappuccino.

I didn't find a sacred space in Florida until Keesha, my keeshond-chow mix, entered my life. As a new dog owner, I soon learned a profound truth: "A tired good is a good dog." Keesha and I learned to love the dog park in Coral Springs, just north of Fort Lauderdale. I knew she had enough exercise when she was too tired to bark at the toll-takers on the Sawgrass Expressway. When she gave up chasing the cats after a half-hearted "arf," I knew we were on to something.

The dog park became a sacred space. I would walk while Keesha ran, appreciating the cool breezes and the open space. When my career change became frustrating, I would walk through the park and visualize a new future.

I must say I am not a great fan of Gainesville, Florida, where I just spent a year as a visiting professor. (Forgive me, Gator fans,) But Keesha and I both found a home in the dog park. If you're not a student, Gainesville can be lonely, and the dog park had people to talk to during the week and a place to hide from people on Thanksgiving and Christmas.

In my own Fort Lauderdale house, my backyard offers a private place to sit with the dog, drink my iced coffee, and watch the birds. Fort Lauderdale is a hub for migratory species and cardinals, orioles and bluebirds stop by as the seasons change.

So...what's your sacred space? Has your space changed over the last few years? Did you find a sacred space when you moved your residence, job or relationship? Answering these questions will tell you a lot about yourself and your world. nnn