There was a time when I was an address changer — a serial mover. I loved the thrill of discovery in a new neighborhood, it’s people, shops and special views.
Before moving, I would explore a neighborhood to be certain that I had an anchor whether it was a new job, a friendly pub, a faculty club, or a church. I love the notion of having a meeting place as community as much as I loved living around the corner from “Cheers” on Boston’s Beacon Street. Although “Cheers” had it’s draw from the TV crowd, my neighbors met at the little establishment on Chestnut Street– similar feelings, same owner.
With my most recent move, because of the pandemic, I didn’t have time to search out the neighborhood. As such, to find a way of keeping myself entertained and engaged, I began moving furniture. It’s quite amazing to discover the many ways of life within four walls.
My goal was quite simple — arrange seating so that there is always the best view. This worked perfectly except for my office. I tried screens and even tried to renovate a large closet. Finally, I angled the futon and placed a desk behind it. It didn’t have an inviting feeling. At last I realized my problem was an exceptionally large hand-carved antique Asian china closet.
I resisted suggestions to sell it until I turned this problem into an asset. By moving it up against the open space between the dining area and kitchen, it hid the sink, stove, and frig. Now the china closet was to my back. My desk was positioned so that I could look at the myriad of birds, pine trees, and sky through the glass faux terrace doors.
Am I happy with this new look? Since I have had a different arrangement every month in the five months that I’ve lived here — the jury is out.
However, what has been so uplifting is the the notion of discovery. Creating a different seating arrangement changes one’s perspective. Realizing that at dusk when I lift my eyes from the screen, I can see the pink clouds at sunset is calming.
Moving furniture around lifted my spirits enough for me to begin writing again. That in itself is a happy accomplishment.
Copyright 2022 Rita Watson