I had Cabin Fever, and I had it bad. I wandered through the house, dying to get somewhere new. “This place makes me sick.” I told myself. I roamed the bottom floor, searching for clutter, thinking that maybe I needed to clean up. Spotless. The flowers in the yard hadn’t bloomed yet, the sky was grey. I had a ton of work to get done.
I went to sit at my computer, to get any one of my many projects completed, and then it struck me. It wasn’t the house that was junky, it was my mind. My mind was full of junky thoughts and a junky attitude. I needed to rearrange the furniture. Shake my environment up a little, and I’d be able to think a new thought, hatch a new idea. At least, I’d be able to procrastinate a little longer. There were checks in the mail! Let the future take care of itself! Me, I’m going to move the couch.
First, I went to sit on said couch, and think over where it ought to go, which made me hate the curtains. I sat next to the curtains, which made me crave an ottoman. I knew that if I spent good money on décor, I’d blow our plans for summer vacation. So here was my prayer of the day: “Lord, I’m itching to be something new, to do something new. And I’m willing to spend about twenty bucks. Whatcha got?”
I meditated on that for a while, and the answer was, “You have everything you need.” Excellent! I took everything out of the family room, and rummaged around the house, thinking of things I already had, that would let me redecorate.
I found photographs, stencils and an ottoman, and I started moving things around. A couple of hours later I had a new family room. I still hated those curtains and so I went out, after demolishing (and restoring) the linen closet in hopes of finding what I needed.
I visited a linen store, and told the clerk, “Hi. I want new curtains, and don’t want to pay more than a couple of bucks.” She rolled her eyes, pointed over to the clearance section and there they were- two lovely, lined panels. They were the right size, the right colors and FIVE dollars apiece. I snatched them, paid her, and hung them joyously. And then, I got to work; answering e-mails, placing the postponed calls, editing some neglected copy that had been waiting for me, and launching new projects. Everything was better with new curtains. The thing is, it wasn’t about the curtains at all. Or the couch, for that matter. The lesson that day was about taking the good things I have, and considering them from a new perspective.
We sat in that family room until late at night on that day, enjoying the new curtains and the old stuff in new ways. And that’s what family rooms are for.