This morning I read an article about real estate in NYC. One of the featured couples, who had just purchased a condo in the city, described their master bedroom as a “sacred space.”
That idea sounded strangely “familiar” to me.
Not sure anyone ever told me as a kid that the master was a sacred space, but I always remember respecting the concept that parents’ bedrooms were off-limits if I was visiting someone’s house. You just didn’t EVER cross that threshold.
Now in our own house, I’d cruise into my parents bedroom all of the time..to raid my mom’s q-tip supply, play with her jewelry or whatever..but even though I felt free to venture in, I still considered it a special room..set apart from the others.
I love the idea of a scared, peaceful bedroom space.. and I think it is high time I not only cleaned my ‘sacred space,’ but re-imagined it.
I’ll start by deflating the (never used) red exercise ball that rolls around in there.