A Practice Has a Space
Have you ever seen the books (and magazine) Where Women Create by Jo Packham? They’re prose-and-photo shoutouts to craftspersons—all female.
The books’ and magazines’ huge kick is to show in great and loving detail the studios and workspaces of women sculptors, weavers, potters, fine artists, quilters, writers, every craft you can imagine, and lots of stuff beyond craft.
It’s tremendously inspiring just to see these spaces. Why? Because there’s so much love, focus, and aspiration in them. You see racks of fashion artists with a hundred different sets of scissors… or a welding studio that’s as huge and complete as something out of NASA.
Why do I love to see these? Because they are sacred spaces.
The goddess smiles when she looks upon them. She goes out of her way to visit and returns with joy again and again. These spaces have been created by their artists like wombs or the nests of eagles… to bring forth soul work and soul art. You can’t look at them, even just photos, and not feel your heart leap with respect for the artist or craftswoman who has fashioned them and given them life.
A practice has a space.
And that space belongs to heaven. Like the dojo of a great martial arts sensei, we figuratively (and maybe literally) pause at the threshold. We place our palms together and we bow to the space. We may even take our shoes off.
We leave all that is temporal and mundane behind when we cross this threshold.
We leave our egos behind.
We leave our attachment to outcome.
Even my own little office, which is basically clutter, clutter, and more clutter, is a space that I enter gravely and with serious purpose. I have come to work. That work might be fun… I might laugh (or cry) as I’m doing it. But I’m doing it with the same level of purity (I hope) and devotion and aspiration as a Zen swords master or a craftswoman in jewelry or brocade or decoupage.
Even if we work on our laptops at a back table in Starbucks, our commitment and our passion render that space a personal hot spot that the Muse recognizes and to which she grants honor and respect.
A practice has a space… and that space is sacred.