It is a beautiful cream colored brocade chaise. Top of the line piece of furniture gifted to me by one of my fabulous aunts. I eagerly awaited its arrival as it was going to be the cornerstone of the bedroom sanctuary I was going to create. Visions of leisurely book reading and coffee sipping filled my head while enjoying the photo wall I was going to create. It was the stuff that Pinterest posts are made of.
But then life happened.
I haven't had opportunity to spend much time in the chaise myself. I did sit on it three times last week to fold laundry and leaned against it while sitting on the floor watching the latest dances choreographed by Mini-Monkey. And once this week I even laid on it for about an hour while comforting the sick Monkey of that moment.
I am thinking of the chaise as I stand in the shower and rinse off the last of the latest round of barf that was spewed upon my by Middle Monkey.
Certainly not the stuff that "sanctuaries" are made of....or is it?
This might not be how I envisioned my sanctuary but it is my place of refuge. My safe space.
Here in this chair I am a comforter. I am always in high demand, always needed. I am far away from the pain of unsettled relations with important people. Far away from people and things that make me sad. People and things that make me cry.
Here my focus is on my beautiful brood. I scoop them up one by one as the night wears on and snuggle each into my bed. Here with them nestled between me and the Monkey Maker, things are good, things are right, things are calm.
Sounds like "sanctuary" to me.