Quiet corners

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Even if we live in a tiny condo unit, H and I have our own quiet corners. This is the area where one can leave the other undisturbed. This is the spot where one can be left in his or her reverie, where one feels most rested and calm.

When I was still single and lived with my folks, my Mom’s quiet corner was her candlemaking area. It was where she could freely experiment with her candle creations without being bugged by any of us. My Dad’s quiet corner is his garden. I continue to be amazed at the hours he spends here, planting trees and flowers. He would come back into the house a bit before sunset, dirty and sweaty, but very much fulfilled. My sister has her quiet corner in front of the television set in our dining room. When she’s seated there, nobody is supposed to bug her. It’s HER chair, HER spot, HER time alone. She grunts at each one who attempts to talk to her.

In our condo, I’ve found my quiet corner. It’s the right half of our little couch. Why this spot? For one thing, that side is right beside the air conditioner. (Heehee.) Plus, this right half is parallel to a window. I can read in peace there. I can daydream. H knows not to bug me when my nose is buried in a Dragonlance book, or when I’m holding my journal and pen. I love that spot. I like that the couch is neither too soft or too hard. It’s just right. I love feeling the aircon’s cool caress on my skin when I daydream. I like seeing the sun rays flow through the window blinds and land on our wooden floor. It’s a magical little nook for me.

The ironic thing is, H’s quiet corner is on the left half of the couch. This is where he usually sits when he watches TV, his favorite way to unwind at the end of the day. Now our couch is only about 4 feet wide so that doesn’t leave us much solace, if you literally mean finding comfort in being alone, with no other people near you. Then again, solace isn’t only about proximity. It could mean finding comfort in what you alone are doing, regardless if the person next to you is 1 foot away or three miles away. While the TV blares on, H relaxes. Not far from where he is, I’m curled up into a ball with my novel, oblivious to the sounds of the television. I am in my own world, hearing only the roars of the dragons or the sweet exchanges of a man and a woman. We rarely talk to each other for a couple of hours while this happens — we let each other unwind, recharge, relax. It’s an unwritten and unspoken understanding we’ve reached.

Where’s your quiet corner? :)

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