Last night I dreamt that I was in my home, which was a combination of my first house and my current one. I go up to the attic and there is a huge open space. A large window faces the road, but I want it even larger. I need more light. The room is filled with cobwebs. The only inhabitants have been ones with more legs than I have. I want to be in this space, but I can’t until it’s clean.
I get the shop vac, because there is a huge pile of sawdust. It reminds me of my dad and the tools he used as a carpenter. He couldn’t create unless he had the space to lay out the wood, measure, and cut. Then he would secure the pieces to create his art. He built houses from foundation to finishing touches, and he was a master at his craft. Interesting to think that my dad was an artist just as I am, but with different tools and outlets.
As I remove the debris, the space opens up and possibilities arise as to what I can create and how. A chair placed by the window to sit and let my imagine wonder through the minds of my characters or the lands they inhabit. Open areas, so that I can ponder what all my words mean and how I can best lay them out like the foundation of a house. Often as I write, I wonder about the blueprint of my story.
I need space to lay out that blueprint. In my dream I only get to the cleaning part, the clearing out. And now I have an open space to start anew.
But in my waking life, do I have the space to be this open? To explore other worlds and words? Where do I keep my tools so that they are readily available as to not break the flow of my creation?
I have the tools, the area, the ideas, but my physical and mental space are cluttered. So my goal today was to clean my office space. I wondered why it is so hard to keep my space clear? What was stopping me?
The answers were tough. My office and creative space was Nick’s bedroom. All the decor was his, and I still have his Legos, his trophies, and art creations on a bookcase. So I began there. I got as far as his swim awards and broke down.
What do I do with all of Nick’s things? For the past eight years, they have adorned my office, and I have enjoyed looking at them and sometimes I have cried. They filled a space that I needed to have more open. I left and went to yoga just to catch my breath. I sat flowed with the heaviness of my feelings and realized that if I can pack some of his items away, it wasn’t getting rid of him, it wasn’t even losing my memories of him. It was opening space to possibilities and new ways of relating to him.
Stephen came into the office and basically stayed with me the entire time I cleared out papers, moved furniture, hung up pictures (he laughed because I measured with my hammer and just hit the nail in. No measuring for me!)
I removed all that wasn’t needed, so I had access to my space and tools to create. What a wonderful feeling! The best part was that Stephen and I spoke of Nick and shared stories. It helped the process.
My dream was reflecting my deepest frustrations. I needed the open space within me and where I created. This is so important for anyone to do. Here are questions that came up for me and that I will continue to journal from. Perhaps they will help you.
Where is my creative space?
How does it serve me?
What tools do I need for my trade, my creating and are they readily available?
Where else do I need space? my calendar, mind, physically, mentally?
With the help of my dream and my son, I was able to create a space that serves my mission and my passion. It has opened so many possibilities!