Within These Four Walls
When we find ourselves living within four walls. . .
I live within these four walls that have been painted, repainted, and painted over. I see myself in every corner, in all the occupants of my nook—a growing plant, a trusted yoga mat, a bursting book shelf.
My nook is the only place that is solely mine. Here, I can tuck myself away. I live in a pocket of blissful solitude within this otherwise ordinary room. This tiny room that holds everything. It holds my life. It holds me.
I do everything within these deep green walls. I answer email. I meditate. I teach. I laugh. I cry. I feel the morning sun. I get anxious. I dust. This sacred space is where fear strikes me and creativity pours out of me.
Though the door is ajar, my fortress and myself remain impenetrable. In its depths, I feel invincible yet vulnerable. I am hidden yet seen. Within these four walls, I find the space to be. I find it within me.
