The Grace of Peace

I marvel at the grace of peace. It comes to me rarely as I'm sure it does for most survivors of child abuse. The darker memories are what usually haunt me late at night/early in the morning. Memories of a drunken parent who'd rather lock me in a crate in the cold cellar than tuck me into bed on a cold winter's night. It's 4:30AM and I'm in my quilt room listening to Enya's music. It is as if the room has become something out of Narnia - a closet to step through into a completely changed room from the dark, depressing prison it was last year. It was a place of sorrow, sadness, pain, hopelessness and believed impeding death. A friend who had visited last yr. when I was so ill stopped by yesterday, sat down, smiled then said the entire vibe of the room had been replaced with joy.  She explained the true concept of feng shui and that everything has energy. Where something sits, from a box to a chair and how its used often dictates how the energy disperses. If ever there was proof of this its my quilting room. Did I mention I just got access to the room across the hall as my own too? Rooms of Ones Own?  I'm sure it's not what Virginia Woolf had in mind but since I don't have the money I'll take the space. 

I finally gave away the treadmill that's been taking up the majority of space in the small bedroom my daughter occupied many childhood years ago.  The treadmill had become an expensive clothes hanger combination resting place for the cats. The room itself had become that place every home has called "throw it in there and we'll sort it out later."  Later never seemed to come and the room just kept filling up.  Well in keeping with my motto "If I haven't used it in a year donate it or throw it away" I've been getting rid of things right and left.  The amount of space that's opening up is positively astonishing.  This tiny home I have hated for so long feels like a haven of peace and calm - no longer home crap home.  Of course, since I swing from one extreme to another I now rarely want to leave my "safe" house.  Its been 3 weeks since I last went out and then it was only for a doctor's appt.  My therapist feels this may not be healthy.  My friend says if I believe this is right for me at this time in my life then go with it. I think I'll go with my friend,s statement despite having to pay the therapist for her advice.  It's 5:30AM now and the snow is coming down harder.  This means I having a true and proper excuse for not leaving the house today.  It's my husband's day off so we can curl up under the blankets and inhale the comfort of each others presence.  Sleeping beside each other calms us and helps us feel safe. It is an abuse survivor thing for both of us, this need to feel safe in bed.  It is a gift we give to each other.