Coming Home, An Ideal

Moving in today, I am inspired by a vision - to achieve a life that is different from the mainstream of society.

In finding my cell I must remind myself to ~honor~ poverty. To be thankful for the things I do have but also thankful for what I don't have. Perhaps I don't have ... because I am not ready to receive at this point in time.

My small dwelling has white - washed walls and smells of the cold, winter morning. I can't touch the one window, the only source of light, nor view the outside. A single bed sits to the left of the window with a down mattress, pillow, and sheepskin coverlet. A wooden box is at the foot of the bed.

A long writing table faces the other wall and is constructed of pine boards. The simple chair has a cane seat. I run my fingers across the tiny holes. Upon the table is a lantern and above the table is a simple shelf. I unpack my books.

By the wooden box is a wash stand with a pitcher and bowl. A tall pewter cup stands alone on one side. Lavendar soap and a pumice rock are on top of a linen towel.

I put my clothing in the box, my shoes on top. I am amazed that what I brought fits perfectly in the space.

My art supplies and writing journal fit neatly on one end of the table.

I try my chair on and sit quietly as I hear morning office being sung. I ask myself where to begin? And I am reminded, begin at the beginning ...

Patricia