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“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say. ”

Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own

As a mother, it’s rare to find time for yourself. When my son was a toddler, I was, um, indisposed, shall we say, and had left the bathroom door slightly ajar. Suddenly, poking through the door, there was a prominent proboscis, covered in black and white fur and sprout-like whiskers.

It was my Black Labrador/Border Collie Mix, Sheena, barging into the bathroom, followed closely by one wobbly toddler with blanket in hand. My son and my dog ambled in, sat down, and watched me as if I was a television show.

Life has certainly changed, I said to them, as if they understood. Both just looked at me and smiled. (Believe me, dogs can smile, too!)

That was fifteen years ago, and since that time, I’ve learned the importance of what Virginia Woolf referred to as “a room of one’s own.” Back then, I didn’t have a dedicated space in which to write, so I developed a habit of creating a “sacred space.”

I’d spread my purple blanket on the couch or comfy chair, or even on the floor if the spirit moved me, and I’d write, even if there was chaos – or worse still, crumbs! – all around me.

For many of us, the blogosphere has become a sacred space. Climbing into cyberspace, you can read and produce poetry, art, music, rants about politics – even ideas about changing the world.

For people of faith, there’s a treasure trove of spiritual blogs, great books of truth and ministries online.

If it moves you, move with it. A room of one’s own can be built from within, but you don’t have to live there alone. You’ll find your kinfolk. If you build it, they will come.

Have a Mary Little Christmas

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