I touch my favourite Sandalwood Oil to the pulse points on my wrists and behind my ears. On the table before me sits a large glass bowl. I imagine it filled to the brim with rose petals. The soft velvety petals are mauve, gold, orange and claret red. I breathe in their scent. The light of the rising sun caresses the glass. I love that bowl. It is large and made from green depression glass. I found it one day in an Opportunity Shop cowering below smoke stacks in a grimy back street of town. The air at the time had a pungent, sulphuric odour. I bought the bowl immediately captivated by its Art Deco lines.
Made in the depression, a time far harder than any I have known, the glass bowl is a symbol of both luck and, on another level, of the way creativity can flower in the most difficult of circumstances. I breathe the scent of the rose petals deep into my being. The fragrance nudges aside the heaviness that sits in my heart. I breathe and breathe, slowly and rhythmically.
I am lifted out of my day to day reality into a space where bees hum in the background and a gentle breeze plays across my face. All sounds are hushed. I am sitting on the verandah of an old house. The grass is longer than is usual and has yellowed in the late summer sun. Beyond it a tangled hedge of honeysuckle and grey green bushes encloses a wild overgrown garden where a riot of rose bushes ramble beside lavender, borage and other flowers I have yet to learn the names of. Beside me is a pile of boxes I have just removed from my car and have yet to unpack.
From where I sit I can see the corner of the rust red shed I plan to convert into my studio. I know that inside it the wooden floors have aged to a deep mahogany that echoes the dark timbers of the roof trusses that crisscross through the space. Light falls in pools of liquid gold upon bench tops and open shelving. Curious objects and random pieces of old furniture are piled in the corners covered in years of dust – treasures to be unearthed when I’ve settled in.
I learn back against the wall of the house. I can feel the solid old timbers supporting me, giving me strength. I have a sense that other bodies have rested back against them over the years. Their auric presence is comforting. I let my mind wander through the rooms of the house. They are light and airy. Dark timbers surround windows and stretch across the floors. I love the contrast between the powdery white walls and dark wood. The house is simple and homely. In the kitchen the light is milky as it spills across the surface of an old wooden table that will be a perfect home for my green glass bowl. I breathe the rose fragrance and feel stress and unease slip from my body.
Here’s two journal pages I made after doing the visualization. To make it seem more real I included a photo of myself in the second one.
I loved doing this visualization exercise. It really helped me clear my mind and focus on what I really want. I also realised I don’t have to buy the house so can by-pass the winning the lottery bit. That should speed things up a bit but I am glad this process takes time. I think I’d collapse if I had to do move right now. I hope you are keeping healthy with all the lifting, sorting, packing and unpacking Heather.