Room

More and more, I go to a room only I can enter. There is a room in my mind where I often enter. This room has a place in the back of my mind, or so it seems when I am there. I mostly go there in moments of deep, relaxed mind.

This room is a place that feels removed from all my surroundings. It is a room removed from my normal, cascading thoughts. Only the thoughts I allow to enter are present, and with them I experience an energetic intimacy. While this room is apart from all things in my immediate experience, it is such an intimate place. I am more at home and alive here than any other place.

I am more present in this room than any other place I can imagine. When I am in this room, my focus is more intense and concentrated than anywhere else. It is a place I can take a sensory experience and it becomes brighter and full of energy. This room swirls with a strange combination of extreme ease and intense energy.

This is a room that I enter by deciding to step inside. The power of my intention is the first step, and then I begin a divesting of my transitory relationships with my normal experience. I often take tokens of my surroundings with me. I take the solid feeling of the floor beneath me, I take people I am attentive to, I take plants that reach out to me in my garden. When they enter my room, they become absorbed in the ease and energy that surrounds them.

The way to my room is becoming more familiar. My body and mind know the way. They take me there when I remember to go and pause to allow the door to swing open. I go to the room in the back of my mind where I am very alive.