My Office; or, The Power of a Space

One of the hardest things my business (read: I) faced during Covid was the possibility that I would have to give up my office. I had no idea how I could cover the expense, especially at the beginning when I had no jobs and zero inquiries coming in. It got worse when I also lost the income of a massage therapist who subletted from me in the evenings.

But I had worked so hard to get my business to a place where I could have this beautiful office of my own…and I decided it was going to take more than a pandemic to make me give it up!

First, I was able to cut back on my advertising costs and put a hold on some of my unnecessary (for the time being) professional insurance coverage. My landlord was also incredibly generous and did what she could to help me stay (including some months which found me weeding the flower gardens in front of the office building).

Don’t get me wrong: I know giving up an office is hardly the worst thing that happened to people during Covid. And I also recognize that at every level of privilege, folks get to value what has meaning in their lives.

During Covid, I realized how much significance my office has: not only as a space to work or meet clients, or even as a symbol of the “seriousness” of my business. My office is most of all an outward reminder of who I am…on the inside.

From my grandfather’s chair to my “grace” stone; from a singing bowl gifted to me by a couple to the quilled paper box I use for my prayer requests, everywhere I see my family history, my own journey, and what I hope will one day be my legacy.

I get here and my body, mind and spirit know what to do.

As my friend in religious studies reminded me, “Creating a space has power for both the creator as well as the people that enter that space, and once created, a power in maintaining it.” 

Of course, I can (and do!) write anywhere: the library, the living room couch, the dining table, my cluttered little desk at home… But when I step into my bright, peaceful office and sit at the desk that once belonged to my grandmother, surrounded by the images and objects of my ancestors and loved ones, something truly magic happens.

This is a space filled with presence: my own, and all those others, too. It hums with the imprint of energy and intention. It is steeped in the movement of growth and aspiration. It is resonant with the Call of Self: following one’s own path, guided by one’s own inner knowing…or true Self. When I sit here—in my office, at my desk—this space helps me open a channel to whatever wants to come through me.

Many times I have written an entire ceremony, start to finish, in a burst of creative certainty. Other times I have written words that don’t feel like “mine,” or a message I myself didn’t think of. But when I read them to a family, or share it with a couple, those are always the words that raise the goosebumps; the message that brings the tears.

Especially in those times, I know I am doing the work I am here to do.

Can you see it? Can you feel what’s happening in this space?

As my wise religious studies friend recently explained, “In Judaism, a wedding couple’s family is tasked with creating the chuppah, a space that is to represent the home the couple is building together. But that chuppah doesn’t just have power for the newlyweds. All married couples are invited to come to the created space of power and renew themselves to their partners.”

Isn’t that so very beautiful?  “The created space of power…”

Now, do you think that’s just Judaism? Just about chuppahs? Just for couples? Just on the wedding day?Of course not! My work is all about creating a space of power: in the act of ceremony, in guided conversations…and right here in my office.

A space of power is about intention. This is a place created with attention. It is filled with objects of significance. There is nothing without beauty and meaning. And it is used for a sole purpose. There’s no Netflix and Chill on that couch. There’s no kicking back with a cold beer in that chair.

A space of power is about presence. In this space, we are fully present. We are attentive to the here and now—informed by the past, mindful of the future, but firmly rooted in this now moment.

Ultimately, a space of power is about connection. Because, in the end, what else are we longing for? We long to feel connected to ourselves…to our inner knowing, our inner truth, our inward experience and purpose…and to have those outwardly aligned with who we are and what we do. We long to be connected with others: to feel seen, heard and valued…to be understood and appreciated and cherished for all we do, and all we are.

And finally, I think, we long to be connected to something greater than us…something big enough to hold everything. God, Brahman, Allah, the Divine, Great Spirit, Mother Earth, Energy, Nirvana—whatever words we use, we yearn to feel connected to the highest truth of our reality.

Like the chuppah or the circle of standing stones or the altar, this is a space of power—for me as its creator, and for all those who step into it. Come join me here.

My Office; or, The Power of a Space

One of the hardest things my business (read: I) faced during Covid was the possibility that I would have to give up my office. I had no idea how I could cover the expense, especially at the beginning when I had no jobs and zero inquiries coming in. It got worse when I also lost the income of a massage therapist who subletted from me in the evenings.

But I had worked so hard to get my business to a place where I could have this beautiful office of my own…and I decided it was going to take more than a pandemic to make me give it up!

First, I was able to cut back on my advertising costs and put a hold on some of my unnecessary (for the time being) professional insurance coverage. My landlord was also incredibly generous and did what she could to help me stay (including some months which found me weeding the flower gardens in front of the office building).

Don’t get me wrong: I know giving up an office is hardly the worst thing that happened to people during Covid. And I also recognize that at every level of privilege, folks get to value what has meaning in their lives.

During Covid, I realized how much significance my office has: not only as a space to work or meet clients, or even as a symbol of the “seriousness” of my business. My office is most of all an outward reminder of who I am…on the inside.

From my grandfather’s chair to my “grace” stone; from a singing bowl gifted to me by a couple to the quilled paper box I use for my prayer requests, everywhere I see my family history, my own journey, and what I hope will one day be my legacy.

I get here and my body, mind and spirit know what to do.

As my friend in religious studies reminded me, “Creating a space has power for both the creator as well as the people that enter that space, and once created, a power in maintaining it.” 

Of course, I can (and do!) write anywhere: the library, the living room couch, the dining table, my cluttered little desk at home… But when I step into my bright, peaceful office and sit at the desk that once belonged to my grandmother, surrounded by the images and objects of my ancestors and loved ones, something truly magic happens.

This is a space filled with presence: my own, and all those others, too. It hums with the imprint of energy and intention. It is steeped in the movement of growth and aspiration. It is resonant with the Call of Self: following one’s own path, guided by one’s own inner knowing…or true Self. When I sit here—in my office, at my desk—this space helps me open a channel to whatever wants to come through me.

Many times I have written an entire ceremony, start to finish, in a burst of creative certainty. Other times I have written words that don’t feel like “mine,” or a message I myself didn’t think of. But when I read them to a family, or share it with a couple, those are always the words that raise the goosebumps; the message that brings the tears.

Especially in those times, I know I am doing the work I am here to do.

Can you see it? Can you feel what’s happening in this space?

As my wise religious studies friend recently explained, “In Judaism, a wedding couple’s family is tasked with creating the chuppah, a space that is to represent the home the couple is building together. But that chuppah doesn’t just have power for the newlyweds. All married couples are invited to come to the created space of power and renew themselves to their partners.”

Isn’t that so very beautiful?  “The created space of power…”

Now, do you think that’s just Judaism? Just about chuppahs? Just for couples? Just on the wedding day?Of course not! My work is all about creating a space of power: in the act of ceremony, in guided conversations…and right here in my office.

A space of power is about intention. This is a place created with attention. It is filled with objects of significance. There is nothing without beauty and meaning. And it is used for a sole purpose. There’s no Netflix and Chill on that couch. There’s no kicking back with a cold beer in that chair.

A space of power is about presence. In this space, we are fully present. We are attentive to the here and now—informed by the past, mindful of the future, but firmly rooted in this now moment.

Ultimately, a space of power is about connection. Because, in the end, what else are we longing for? We long to feel connected to ourselves…to our inner knowing, our inner truth, our inward experience and purpose…and to have those outwardly aligned with who we are and what we do. We long to be connected with others: to feel seen, heard and valued…to be understood and appreciated and cherished for all we do, and all we are.

And finally, I think, we long to be connected to something greater than us…something big enough to hold everything. God, Brahman, Allah, the Divine, Great Spirit, Mother Earth, Energy, Nirvana—whatever words we use, we yearn to feel connected to the highest truth of our reality.

Like the chuppah or the circle of standing stones or the altar, this is a space of power—for me as its creator, and for all those who step into it. Come join me here.