Do you make your bed in the morning?
I do. My bedroom is my sanctuary. A well made bed, for me, is an invitation for peaceful slumber, meditative contemplation, and sensual expression. Therefore, I take great care with how I dress my bed and how I keep it from day to day.
Everyone has their own preference of colors on a bed, and I love pure white. Everyone looks good in white sheets, it is a blank canvas for whatever you can dream up. Like white plates, a French custom, food for the soul and food for the body is just so elegant in a white bed.
Each morning, I participate in a zen-ful meditation of taking my bed apart and remaking it. I take my time and become quiet, lovingly re-creating the welcome I received the night before. Smoothing the sheets, plumping the pillows, shaking out the duvet, and placing the extra thick, extra comfy additions atop our sleeping pillows; to recline on later when I climb in to read something inspiring. There is always a pile of books by each of our sides, and many a great conversations are had each evening.
There is no need to escape to a hotel room for a luxurious bedroom experience, you can create that at home. Our new bed, (we upgraded to a King) takes longer to make and I travel around it methodically, this side, that side, smooth here, tuck there, back and forth, back and forth, until satisfied, I contemplate the simple yet expansive beauty before me. This simple meditation brings me peace and joy.
I look forward to peeling back the covers the coming evening, and imagine what secrets will be shared with my partner as night falls. Outside my window, a giant moss covered boulder, hummingbirds, dappled sunlight and a lone Arbutus tree. How could I leave a tousled bed for all that nature to look in on? They give, I give.
Sometimes we use our room as the place to shove all the things we want to hide, and shut the door from visitors. But I like mine open, tidy, uncluttered. It keeps me accountable to myself.
I hope you make time for bed-making. In every moment, find divinity. In every act, find love.
(this is not my room, but it’s pretty darn close to how my bed looks, and the style I keep my room in – the the feel of it – give or take a few faux fur throws to tumble around on)
When my bed is made depends entirely on my cat’s schedule. You see, Purrl is twenty-two, and I would never turn her out from under the duvet. Age has its privileges. Your bed meditation, however, is lovely. We each, I suppose, have our own definition of sanctuary. Mine is deeply colored by my delight in having my own bedroom after sixty years of sharing with someone else. I find it delightful.