With all the questions raised from when we sold everything we owned to move to Scotland (we call it "The Great Purge"), and the pursuant pandemic (when we were no longer able to rely on the outside world as our extended living space), I've been asking myself the question of "How much is enough?" Or more specifically, "How much is enough for me?" I know I don't need a mansion and cars and shoes galore to be happy. Other than my extreme book buying habit, I'm not a terribly materialistic person. The answer I've come up with is that I need a sanctuary.
What do I mean by sanctuary exactly?
For many people, it's their house. A friend of mine recently bought her first house and it has become her refuge from the storms of life. For a city dweller, perhaps it's someplace quiet in nature. For creatives, it's often their studio. Wherever it is, it's a place where one can be completely themselves, content, and calm. It's a place where you can leave your stressors at the threshold and proceed unburdened.
Sounds like a vacation, doesn't it? And yes, sanctuary can be a vacation. But I'm looking for sanctuary in my daily life. And I think I might be on to something with the studio idea. A studio is a physical place where a creative can go into "the zone" - that creative space where time stops and the outside world disappears. But a garden can do this too. I used to be a Master Gardener. I loved being out in my garden—the whole world came down to pulling that next weed. It was very satisfying.
But I don't have a garden right now, or a home-studio at the moment. We landed in this lovely flat overlooking Main Street right before the pandemic, and it became our cave. It's not felt right to buy a house yet. (We've dipped our toes in a few times only to swiftly withdraw.) I'm feeling rather transient.
So, I'm looking for what can work for me as sanctuary right now, until I have that physical space that I can designate as my sanctuary.
You probably see where this is going... I'm beginning to realize that sanctuary is within me. It's not about where I am so much as my attitude about where I am when I'm there.
At Hollins University, I like to go brush the horses. (Stay with me, there's a point here.) Horses are BIG, dumb animals. All of my major injuries have been from horses. (Ever notice I have a crooked nose? That's a story for another time!) However, horses are extremely intuitive. You cannot be stressed out around a horse. If you are, they will pick up on it and become agitated. An agitated horse is a dangerous horse. Therefore, to brush a horse, I have to take myself down several notches. I have to come to them already calm, and I have to stay that way while I'm with them. As a result, brushing horses is Zen for me. It's how I calm down. And yet, it's not the horses calming me - it's me calming me.
If I can do it around horses, I figure I can do it elsewhere too.
So, my exercise for myself this semester is to find sanctuary. And I might not need to look any further than my own (crooked) nose.
