Wednesday, September 5, 2012


I will always need a space to just lay on the floor.

This morning, I need that space to set pages in front of me. I'm looking for work here in my new hometown, just a little something to lend structure to my days and allow for a little play money in the budget. My handwritten notes allow for so much more connection than the spreadsheet I was trying to make on the computer; I just couldn't get engaged in the task when it was only typing. So, I'll fill pages notebook with job information until I'm satisfied. (Meaning "hired.")

My current spot -- right beneath our lovely picture wall.

On other days, it's not pages of job listings I have in front of me, but writing. Whenever I start a new story idea, it always lands on a bit of loose-leaf, and as the scene flows out of my fingers, the prose strings itself from one page to the next. With my large handwriting and wordy writing style and indecisive word choice, it's easy to fill an hour -- and most of the floor space around me -- with paper.

Still other days, especially long ones, I lay flat on my back, my fingers interlocked over my rib cage. I take deep breaths, employ positive self-talk, and get sleepy. There's a casual intimacy about the floor that helps me to relax, and recenter, in a way that I just need every now and then. It's nice, becoming conscious of the gentle thumping of my heart and the gradual loosening in my shoulders and lower back. I pay attention to the texture of my carpet, the draft that chills my toes. I finally take a moment to be curious about the pattern of my ceiling, and notice that maybe I should vacuum once I'm ready to get up and move again.

Sometimes, I don't even have to be on the floor alone, which is great. I love snuggling next to my husband, eye level with the arm of the couch, with our feet pointed out in front of us. Chris and I had our first official family night on the floor the other day, complete with song and scripture and activity. I suggested the floor because he was using the coffee table as a workstation, and the dining room chairs are just so hard.

Plus, the floor is just my friend.

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