“Spiritual Space”

I remember living in Oakland in my mid-twenties. I was on the fourth floor of an old building that had no elevator. It wasn’t in the worst part of town, more of a halfway point between a bad area and one that, well, wasn’t as bad. It was a nice place, with good sized rooms and a tiny-ass kitchen, but that didn’t matter too much to me. No central heating, though. One winter I was there, the radiator broke and wasn’t fixed for a long time. Those were some pretty cold nights.

My home has never been a place where tons of people hang out. Part of that is that I have always tended to have a few close friends rather than many casual acquaintances. On the rare times I had people over, they always commented on how barren my bedroom was. Basically, all I had in it was the bed. And with my insomnia, I can tell you there were plenty of times I didn’t even use the bed and slept out in the living room on the couch. To tell the truth, I hated the bed. Not because it was uncomfortable, but because I hated the act of going to bed. It was at a time in my life where I dreaded going to sleep because I was just going to have to wake up the next morning and go through the whole miserable existence of daily life all over again. For the longest time, I didn’t give much thought to my sleeping space--aside from resenting it.

For Christmas last December, my parents were gracious enough to buy me a new bed. That was a real blessing. Up to that point, I’d still been sleeping on the one that was leftover from when I split up with my ex-wife. Even if it hadn’t had all that negative energy attached to it, it was old and totally lacking in back support. I found a very reasonably priced frame, one that looked nice. It’s sort of an Asian/modern/platform frame. It looks great, and the bed itself is a nice firm mattress; very supportive, and it’s been doing wonders for my back. I’m still popping spinal bones back into place on a weekly basis.

After getting the old bed out, I realized that for the first time in my life I actually wanted my bedroom to be a special place. I wanted it to reflect me, who I am. I wanted it to be more than a place where I merely physically recharged; I wanted it to be a place to spiritually recharge as well. No one faith or religious tradition works for me, in terms of the expression of my belief in a higher power. Buddhism. Christianity, Wicca, and native American traditions are all ways I have found that are helpful to me for expressing my relationship with the spiritual.

I found a Shinto-style bench and set it up as an altar, aligned with the foot of the bed. Underneath it went my spell materials and blades. I have a quilted wall-hanging my mom had made for me a few years back. It’s called ‘the path’ and looks a lot like a row of stones. I hung it above the altar. I went out and bought new night stands. I found a pair that were inexpensive, but with a simple, minimalist design that matched with the rest of the furniture perfectly. I set candles on the altar, and on the nightstands too, where they’re inset in trays filled with river rock. My sobriety medallion now rests on the altar, centered. A gold chain that has special meaning to me surrounds it, shaped into a triangle by my own hands. There are 27 stones in the wall-hanging (3 x 3 x 3). There are a total of 13 candles. I took down every picture I’d had on the walls, then decided on three to re-hang: my bachelors degree in music, the concept art for my sobriety tattoo, and a print I own of a Van Gogh painting.

When it was all done, I stepped back and was instantly amazed. I could feel the power of the energy in my bedroom, now. But it was nothing compared to how it felt with candles lit. The first time I did that, I realized I had been feeling was the mere hum of a readiness. With the candles lit, the spiritual space was… well, I don’t know how better to describe it than to say that it got turned ‘on’.

Each of these changes has been taking place over the past few months. All the while, my mom had been working on a new quilt for me. I knew that, once the room was done and the quilt was done, it would be time to bless it. When I went away this weekend, I visited a friend of mine who is very connected to native American beliefs. He always has white sage for smudging--a cleansing ceremony that removes negative energy. I brought some sage back with me. Last night was a new moon, which I’ve read is an excellent time to smudge. I read up on the best way to go about it, the sat down last night to purify my new spiritual space.

When I light the candles in my room, I do it in a very specific way--in a circle around the room, and with a single, long match. I light the candles whenever I’m holding Session (as I like to call it). That can mean prayer, meditation, spellcasting, working on totems, any activity where I am attempting to directly connect with the spiritual in a powerful way. Last night, because it was a special night and I was going to be blessing the space, I turned off everything in the apartment: air conditioning, fans, lights, all went off. I stood by the first candle to light, said a prayer to the Infinite All, then struck the match. Fire burst into being.

Around the room, I lit each of the thirteen candles. I placed the burnt match on my altar, as is my custom when holding Session. Then I stood in front of the altar, ready to light a second match to burn the sage, and called upon the spirits of the earth to join me. I struck the match and it…didn’t light. I realized my error immediately. I had been egotistical. I had spoken to them with an air of superiority. I didn’t need them to join me, I needed their help. It was something I had to ask for and I’d gone about it without a trace of the appropriate respect. At once, I fell to my knees. I prayed three times for forgiveness. Then, with the utmost humility, and with a humbled heart, I asked for the spirits again for their help. This time, the match came alive.

I lit the sage, let it burn, then when the flames died down I blew on the embers and let the smoke flow. I began at my feet, then worked up to my legs, my torso, and circled my head. Then I passed the smoke over my altar. After that, I went to each corner of the room. The smoke from the sage traps the bad energy. When I was finished, I opened the windows to let the smoke out, and it carried all the negativity with it.

When it was done, I sat before the altar and thanked the spirits for their help. I knew at once that I had made my bedroom a sacred space, and that I would have to respect it as such from now on. They even came to me and told me that I could no longer wear shoes there. I smiled, agreeing to their terms. It was a small price to pay. For many hours afterward, I was overcome by a deep sense of peace and calm. I felt the spirits holding me, surrounding me with love, like a spiritual hug. It was so powerful. I had heard that a smudging could be draining to the one performing the ceremony. I didn’t feel drained, but I wasn’t full of energy. I was simply in a deep state of peace and calm. I left the windows open a long time, and I let the candles burn all the way down.

Today, my mother dropped off the new quilt. Tonight, I will light a new set of thirteen candles and hold Session for the first time in my fully cleansed spiritual space. There’s praying to be done.