The Room of My Heart

Remember Jess? She told me that a yoga teacher once asked her, during shavasana, to picture the room of her heart. She’d never considered such a thing before, and delightedly began adding colors and pillows until she felt happy in her space. She says she carries that place with her as a stress-free “safe room” she can always escape to, and today I thought I’d create my own. Want to play?

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The walls of my heart are draped with red velvet. (This may not sound like it’s good for the old blood pressure, but remember: this is a metaphor.) The floor of my heart is entirely made of one perfectly soft-firm mattress, and it’s covered in red jersey sheets. The walls of my heart have windows onto the world, each one a view to a different place I adore: the market in Xalapa, Little Lost Cove Cliffs, a brilliantly starry night sky, a room where my mother sits crafting and listening to opera.

The ceiling is made of tree branches that seem to grow from the tops of the walls. Their leaves are intermingled colors – spring green and autumn jewel tones – and they rustle gently against each other. They never, ever, fall though – there’s no raking allowed in this room.

When I lay down, I am warm but also feel mild breezes wafting to me from the trees. There’s a silver tray of exquisite French macaroons tucked in a corner, and there is also one door. Every so often, it opens and J bursts into my space! He wears a fencing mask, sabre in hand, and tosses me my gear. We duel like maniacs, laughing the whole time, and then decide whose heart room we’ll sleep in that night.

What does the room of your heart look like? I really want to know!

This isn’t quite right, but YIKES is it gorgeous!

If you’re so inclined, visit the heart-rooms of these fine bloggers:

  1. E. from A Sign Of LifeWhat My Heart Looks Like
  2. Helena from Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.The Room of My Heart
  3. Rara from Rarasaur99 Green Balloons
  4. Samantha from S.Owens WritesThe Room of My Heart
  5. Beth from Writer B is MeI’ll Show You My Room If You Show Me Yours
  6. Laura from History of a Woman The Room of My Heart

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P.S. Today, my friend Nikki gave me a Liebster Award! I’ve accepted this award in the past, so I won’t do a post about it, but I do want to send y’all over to check out Nikki’s fashion blog. She’s an avowed feminist, a warrior for social justice, a graduate student, a hell of a wedding coordinator (I know from experience!), and she makes blazers simply adorable. Say hi.

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94 responses to “The Room of My Heart

  1. If I thought about it, I guess it would have a soft sand floor, a roof open to the warm Caribbean sun, palm trees, and a hammock big enough for two, positioned to catch every soft breeze.
    If I thought about it…

    Yours sounds like a wonderful vibrant place!

  2. the room to my heart would be red brick walls, a beamed ceiling . . . and a huge round oak table in the center.

    Seated around the table would be all my old project friends and under the table would my past dogs waiting on a piece of jerky (dogs get treated well in my room), especially Lilden my McKensie River Dog and Sky my wolf.

    We’d be drinking Carlings Black Label Beer, smoking cheap cigars and playing poker. . . . .

    • That’s wonderful. If your heart looked like your little cabin, that would be lovely, too. πŸ™‚

      Can you please tell me more about your wolf?

  3. My heart is filled with tears today. It looks like a dark cave today. My little dog, almost fifteen years old, is seriously ill and I cannot see anything in my heart but him and me – with me crying. The clouds will be less heavy eventually, But today my heart is filled with sorrow.

  4. I love this! I may use this post as well and reference yours! My room would look something like an atrium with a giant glass ceiling. I would lay on a deep set white couch on freshly cut grass underneath cherry blossom trees. With never ending wine and cheese!! I’ll give that more thought for later πŸ™‚

  5. Mine would be full of color, with kaleidoscopic patterns shifting and changing in filtered sunlight It would also have pillows and soft blankets. Soothing.

    • Oh, I love that! I did a guided meditation once where the leader asked us to imagine different colored light streaming down on us, and think about how the blue versus red versus green light made us feel. I’d like to have all of them, like you described.

  6. On one wall, over a fireplace, I have a black velvet painting of Elvis. It’s from later in his career. He’s wearing a white jacket with gigantic, stiff collars and studs all over. It’s heavy. The jacket. Not the painting. On the facing wall, there’s a painting of some dogs playing poker.

    I had to Google shavasana. Just so you know who you’re dealing with.

    • BAM! Elvis is in the building.

      Do you do the interior decorating around your real house?

      Also, I had to Google it to, for the spelling. Shavasanaaaaahhhhhhh.

  7. Ah, I didn’t know you had received the Liebster in the past, although I should have considering how awesome you are! But thanks for the plug; you’re the best πŸ™‚

    Also, your heart room sounds like a beautiful and magical place. No doubt a spot free of stress and full of fun!

    NCsquared Life

  8. Pingback: What My Heart Looks Like | A Sign Of Life·

  9. The walls of my heart are made of bits of broken pottery that have been painstakingly glued back together as best as I could, but the edges are chipped and rough-edged, and there are pieces missing. With each heartbeat you could hear the shards rubbing up against each other with a painful grinding sound. In one corner of the room is a pile of old dirty blankets that I wrap myself up in and try desperately to keep warm. Horrible names are scrawled across the wall in permanent marker, screaming out at me so impossibly loud that I cannot ignore them. On the other side of the room is a rusty bedspring mattress that I am terrified to go near. A monster lives under the bed. There are no windows in the room of my heart, but the cracks in the walls let him just enough light to cast shadows that haunt me and stalk me in the night. This is where I live. The me that looks out from behind dull eyes is but an automaton, performing the daily actions that are necessary for my physical existence, repetitive actions learned by route. The real me is curled up in filthy blankets in a room where I can never ever get warm.

  10. My heart is a well built, steel structure, indestructible and proud. Sheeted in corrugated iron it is loud in the cyclonic rains, hot under the summer sun. There are quotes from ancient, contemporary and unknown philosophers scrawled across all of the roof beams, the walls are randomly clad with dreams, some recalling triumph, others reflecting hope. The floor is solid concrete, cold, utilitarian, unyielding though trustworthy and reliable. The mezzanine levels are littered with all manner of “useful things” just waiting for someone to come along and give them a new home. Behind the bar the fridges and shelves are stocked with every kind of beer, wine and spirit, some for my indulgence alone, others are solely for those who would be invited in. Haaanng on, coincidentally, that description also fits my shed…come on in…

  11. My knee-jerk reaction is that it would like the inside and outside of a Victorian-era brick or wooden house. And probably have piles of books everywhere. I love this idea! I might have to write a post on it soon and link back to yours. Your heart sounds very cozy πŸ™‚

  12. My heart room would look like Lothlorien in the Lord of the Rings BOOKS (not the movies) – a light, beautiful place. A platform high in the trees, surrounded by gold and silver leaves. But I’d also have warm tropical breezes coming through, and openings through the leaves to a beautiful starry sky. And bright Moroccan decorations hanging from the branches – lanterns, colored scarfs. As well as heavy Moroccan rugs on the platform floors, with a few cushions and a low table with a few candles and more lanterns. Oh yes.
    I wish that was possible in real life!!! I want to go there, right now…

    • Oh, those Moroccan lamps. You’re a woman after my own heart! I tried to read my uncle’s copies of LoTR when I was 12 or so, and I couldn’t get through the heavy imagery. I might have to try again now… your Lothlorien sounds wonderful.

      • πŸ˜€ I love Moroccan lamps! My fav.
        LoTR is a dense read, I agree. But if you can get through it to Lothlorien, it’s worth it. Another highlight is Tom Bombadil, who never appears in the movies. Just gorgeous. Both of those two settings are my absolute favorite from fantasy books.

  13. We used to do this for a teacher that was trying to teach us how to hypnotize ourselves. It was a relaxation technique meant to take us to a happy place. Mine was always an empty dirt road going through a forest at the height of Autumn. I still use it during times of stress. “Imagine yourself walking…”

    • I love it. I have trouble visualizing things without a voice leading me through it, though. Which is why ASMR videos on YouTube are so awesome for me… let me know if you want to hear more about that particular strange addiction of mine. πŸ™‚

  14. I don’t know why I have a resistance to this — all I keep picturing is red pulpy flesh. My heart doesn’t want to be a metaphor, I think. It’s strong, vulnerable, and runs everything, it says, just as it already is. It says it thanks me for not being overprotective of it and for letting it make a bunch of decisions on its own. I guess it prefers that I’m the room, and it gets to orchestrate from the safety of it.

    • Ilike this answer. Your heart’s too powerful and important to be visualized as anything but what it really is – and what’s the problem with that? Gorgeous.

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  17. Jennie, I just did a free-association exercise where I invited the room of my heart to reveal itself. Here’s what came up:
    β€’ A wide open space with nature as the dominant theme (i.e., deep blue sky with puffy white clouds, a field full of purple wildflowers and tall beige grasses, and a bright warming sun shining over the whole deal).
    β€’ Interestingly, my space doesn’t have walls, but instead extends in all directions for as far as my eyes can see.
    β€’ Also interestingly, a wooden fire tower appeared not too far off in the distance.
    β€’ I am alone in the space, and I am so completely happy and content to have no other people around me.
    β€’ There are a few butterflies around – but interestingly, that’s the only other β€œmoving” life form in the space. No bugs, no birds, no puppies…. Which is a bit surprising to me, actually. I thought dogs would be there.
    β€’ And as I sat in the space and got still, I felt the presence of God start to appear; and soon thereafter, felt a palpable sense of love and wellness. Then, the more that God-sense filled the space, the less concerned I was about being alone; once I felt soothed by that benevolent force, I was fine to have other people around me.

    Wild. So there you go! I had no idea what would appear when I started this exercise; I have to say I was happily surprised!

    • It’s amazing how much this reveals about you and also lines up with what I already knew about you. Wild, yes, and wonderful! Thanks so much for sharing it here. The idea of being peacefully alone when you choose sounds so, so deeply good – even minus the dogs!

  18. This is fascinating. While reading yours, my shoulders dropped and I became completely relaxed.

    Hmmmm. I know immediately there’s the sound of gentle rain and rumbling distant thunder. I’m on a bed with crisp, white sheets. There’s a cat next to me, purring. There are two windows, one is open. A single white panel flows to the floor and gently sways in the breeze. It’s dusk, or maybe dawn. Dark but not. I see the outline of a large tree outside the window.

    • When I read that your shoulders dropped, mine dropped. I so often forget how much tension I’m carrying around in my body. This morning I woke up early and took a bath. I let my arms float up in the water, put my head in except for my face, and just breathed. The bouyancy felt so wonderful. …I think I’m adding a bathtub to my heart room.

        • The hardest part of living in Mexico (seriously) was that bathtubs aren’t standard there. I lived in three houses and none of them had one. Whenever I’d come home to visit my parents, I’d soak in their tub while my mom pleaded outside the door: “Jenn, come out already! Did you come home to see me or the bathtub?” πŸ˜‰

  19. Pingback: I’ll Show You My Room If You Show Me Yours | Writer B is Me·

  20. I’ve already posted this in response to Beth’s post about the same thing (I predict there is going to be a lot of them — because this is a great subject!) — but here it is for you:

    The room of my heart would be underwater, in a clear, teal blue ocean. It would be about 30 feet deep, next to a colorful reef, where angel and clown fish would dart through the coral and anemones. The room would have expansive windows and a clear roof, so that I could lay in my soft, oversized bed and watch the sunlight and moonlight illuminate the rippling surface of the sea, which looks like liquid, shimmering silver from below. The sound of singing, from far away whales and dolphins, would be my music, and the blue and green luminescence from the phytoplankton and jelly fish would be my nightlight.

    • That literally sent chills down my spine. When I was in fifth grade, me had an art project to draw our dream house. Mine was underwater, too! Seeing the moon from underneath the waves sounds so, so soothing.

      I have to ask – have you been scuba diving?

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