“My home is my sacred space,” Heather wrote in response to my June 12 post on home sharing ala The Golden Girls. I keep thinking about that. For me, sitting by the fireplace this chilly morning as I write, my home feels like a sacred space, too. A place not to be violated.
Merriam-Webster defines “sacred” as “dedicated or set apart for the service or worship of a deity.” A church, temple, mosque, that sort of thing. But Merriam-Webster also offers synonyms that I think most of us would like to apply to our homes: protected, secure, untouchable, shielded, inviolable.
I like the Urban Dictionary definition: whatever a person considers holy, precious, in high esteem/regard, to be revered at all cost, devoted to, deeply respected, unbroken, dear to the heart.
Whether or not one visits a religious space to worship a deity, can’t our homes be sacred, too? I think so. Look at everything that happens in our homes, whether we have a house, apartment, trailer, or tent. This is where we sleep, strip naked and wash ourselves, where we weep, pray, make love, create, and rest. It’s where couples fall in love, where they break up, where they die. It’s where we keep the possessions that mean the most to us, including the relics of our own past lives and of our loved ones who have died.
Home is where we can be our unclothed, unadorned selves, where we can be quiet or shout in frustration, fart or snore or curse. Home is the setting for ordinary moments–petting the dog, drinking a glass of water, trimming our fingernails–and life-changing moments when the phone rings with bad news or we open the letter that turns everything upside down. At church, we dress up and spend an hour sitting with others to say prayers and talk about God. But we LIVE in our homes.
From Day One, we Catholics are taught that God is everywhere. Doesn’t that make home a sacred space?
Think about the homes where guests leave their shoes at the door. This show of respect leaves their feet vulnerable to cold and injury, quiets their steps, and honors the sacred space into which they have entered.
Not everyone is lucky enough to have a home. I know I am fortunate that my husband and my father have left me financially secure. I can afford to keep this oversized house just for myself instead of working through my old age to keep any kind of roof over my head. But even when I lived in one-bedroom apartments in bad neighborhoods, when I couldn’t always pay my bills, my home was a sacred place to me.
That Golden Girls post drew a lot of spirited comments. Keep them coming, friends. This is a great discussion. One reader said she has shared a home with a friend for years and it has worked well. A few others are hoping for that Golden Girls dream in the future. But most do not want to share their homes. They’d rather live alone than have a roommate.
I get it. We claim this one little piece of earth as our own and guard it like the robin I saw this morning protecting his nest against an invading starling. The bird fluffed itself up big, darting and dodging until the marauder gave up trying to get to the eggs in the nest. That nest is vulnerable to all kinds of animals, as well as the weather. A strong gust of wind could blow it down. Yet that robin defended it with all its power.
We humans are programmed from the beginning to claim what is ours. We know it can be taken away by debt, uncaring landlords, fire, earthquakes, and other threats, but we will defend it with our lives. “Mine!” shouts the toddler, clutching her toy box. “Keep out!” says the sign the teenager tapes outside his bedroom door. “No trespassers” say the many signs tacked by adults to fences and trees.
We want our space, even if it means we are alone more than we would like to be. It is a huge thing to invite someone else to share that space. Most of the people who commented on my post are not interested in having a roommate or moving somewhere they’d be surrounded by other people. They intend to stay in their homes, on their own, with visiting caregivers if needed, as long as they possibly can.
Me, I’m still considering my options. I want safety and less home maintenance, but I also want my space, my trees and my animals. I want this quiet love seat by the fireplace where I can think and write.
What do you think? Is your home a sacred space? What makes it sacred–or not? Have you thought about inviting someone to live with you? Is that Golden Girls dream of four friends sharing a house realistic?
Photo by Photo by Oleksandr P: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-with-tea-near-fireplace-at-home-12932931/
NEWS, NEWS, NEWS!
I’ve got so much to share that I can’t fit here. New books, readings talks, zooms: go to https://mailchi.mp/b6cb6ee509bf/sue-licks-news to read about it. While you’re there, sign up for my newsletter to get it emailed straight to your inbox.
How did I end up alone? I didn’t have any kids. After my husband and I retired to the Oregon coast, far from family, he died of Alzheimer’s. You can read our story in my forthcoming memoir, No Way Out of This: Loving a Partner with Alzheimer’s, coming out on June 25—nine days from now. Preorder the book at your favorite bookseller. Visit https://www.suelick.com for information on all of my books.
It’s interesting, this lens on our own space. I know I’m the one who said it and it remains true — my home is my sacred space and I see folks agreeing, but this is a mostly Western philosophy, don’t you think? In Latinx and Asian countries, it’s quite the norm to have three or even four generations sharing space. I love my lil mom but I know from experience that we get along much, much better when we don’t live together. It would be interesting to know the perspective of those in a multigenerational living arrangement. Are there parts of the home that are sacred to the individual? Or is the whole thing sacred still? Would they feel very lonesome and poorly if they lived alone? I suppose a lot of that depends on the person, but it’s interesting to consider how their perspective would differ. Great essay, Sue! You really expanded beautifully on it!
Yes, my home is my sacred space. All of my strategically placed Buddhas remind me of this, as well as the energy I put into making it welcoming, beautiful and calm. My husband also enjoys what we have created together.
We knocked out a wall and turned it into a huge sliding glass door which looks out at the desert. When it warms up to 100°+ like today, it's nice to stay cool inside and still feel like we are outside watching the many desert critters. The birds, bobcats and lizards which frequent our birdbath for a drink of water keep us entertained.
I spent a lot of time living alone, and I enjoyed it during my single years. I would prefer solitude over an unsuitable companion. My husband and I have a good rhythm that works for us, and that includes many spaces in our togetherness. He spends a few months in Alaska every year and I enjoy those times. We are both OK with taking separate vacations since we both spent so many years living alone when we were single.
We don't have a "joined at the hip" kind of marriage and we like it this way. Sometimes it feels like I get to have the best of both worlds, including a fantastic step son who enjoys getting out of the Pacific Northwest rain to visit us.
Back to your question, I love my home and I enjoy sharing it with all who enter my sacred inner sanctum.