Realizations Inc

Vol. 6, No. 1

The words tumbled out pell-mell and chased each other through the air as she described their temporary living quarters. "We’re like sardines in a can!" she wailed. "There’s no way I can stay on a personal growth journey. I don’t even have a room of my own!"

"A room of one’s own is an absolute necessity," I agreed.

"Well, there you have it!" she interrupted excitedly. "And I don’t have that necessity!"

"While a room of one’s own is essential, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a literal space in your present abode," I continued. "Although that’s ideal, sometimes it’s impossible, at least temporarily. It can be a virtual room, however. A place to which we can retreat at any time."

"A virtual room?" Her eyebrows arched toward the ceiling. "As in virtual reality?"

I nodded.

"Do you have one?" she asked somewhat skeptically.

"I’ve had one for decades," I replied and instantly experienced a jolt of nostalgia.

Her chin jutted out. "A virtual room of your own? Okay, start talking," she challenged. "Tell me about it!"

"The builder had never intended mine to be a room," I began, "just a pause between the first and second stories of my childhood home. Jutting out over the back porch, three walls made of glass, this landing pad provided a near-perfect retreat. Every morning, except when rain or snow pelted the East windows, Old Sol shot in its warm rays around the Venetian blinds. From the North, a great expanse of green velvet rolled down to the churning whirlpools that were the Red River. Beyond, wooded hills stretched away toward Hudson Bay where I was certain that courier-de-bois still silently patrolled its lonely shores. Above, the giant blue screen changed features regularly." I hesitated for a moment, wrapped in memories.

"In springtime, great flocks of Canada Geese honked by in formation en route to their summer home. Gigantic ice flows struggled to free themselves from the clutches of the riverbanks. Cannon-like booms and labored groans filled the air as the torturous shapes bumped and jostled each other on their way to the sea.

"During the all-to-brief summer, the scent of lilac, lily-of-the-valley, and jasmine enticed Bluebirds to nest under the eves while Kingfishers honed their diving skills. And, of course, more than once a knight in shining armor galloped by on his white stead; each time slowing almost imperceptibly to touch his visor in greeting." I winked at my guest and she actually chuckled.

"Autumn presented its ballet of the leaves. Bits of gold and scarlet, orange and brown swished by, gently brushing the windowpanes in farewell. Perfectly choreographed, they danced and dipped to the piano artistry of Roger Williams. And Jack Frost stopped by to etch medieval castles on the windows, to hang icicles from every twig and wire, and to generously sprinkle diamonds everywhere."

"The Northern Lights were featured in winter. In mysterious hues they twinkled, blinked and swirled their gauzy veils, beckoning to me. In imagination I traveled with them to the farthest reaches of the globe! The ethereal warmth of the Aurora Borealis offset the howling winds that threatened to tear the stucco from the walls and drive ice crystals through the storm windows".

"Snuggled under a down comforter," I continued, "hot chocolate leaving its ring on the tiny glass-topped desk, I could watch a private showing of the sunset as it played itself out against the clouds. And I could dream. It was my Camelot." We sat in companionable silence for a moment. "So you go there in your mind’s eye whenever you need a spot of quiet time, is that it?" she questioned. I nodded.

"I might be able to do that," she mused. "At least until we move into larger quarters." I raised an eyebrow.

"I can do that," she affirmed, laughing.

Do you have a room of your own? It’s an absolute necessity!