I’ve had at least seventeen different permanent addresses. In four countries.

That’s quite a few houses, apartments, and bedrooms that I have called my own. And somewhere along the way, I picked up the habit of speaking to them.

Yes, I speak to physical spaces.

It started when I moved out of the room I lived in during my last year of boarding school.

As the last suitcase was rolled out and the last poster peeled off the wall, I turned back to my small, single room and said “Thank you.”

I closed the door, and that was that.

And since then, whenever I leave a place (a city, a bedroom, or even a really great restaurant), I’ll softly whisper my thanks.

Once, in North Carolina, I gave a ten-minute speech to the entire state (Love my NC!). But most of the time, though, my words to the space are brief:

Thank you.
For the memories that unfurled here.
For the love you brought through these doors.
For the quiet you held for me.
Thank you for being my place, for this time.

What makes a space sacred?

Usually, we think of sacred or holy places as spots that have been celebrated in history books by very famous people.

Often, the floors are made of marble. There are elaborate paintings or sculptures on the walls. Holy books in ancient languages sit on thousand-year-old altars and podiums. We might have to wear special clothing to be allowed to enter. Flash photography is prohibited.

For centuries, these qualities have been what determined if a place was special or even if we’d go so far as to call it sacred.

But, let’s consider this:

Synonyms for sacred: Blessed. Regarded with great respect. Revered. Holy.

Could somewhere in your house (or your entire house) be regarded with great respect?

Can you revere your vegetable garden?

What if, in addition to those more well-known sacred sites, the driver’s seat of your car could be a holy spot for you?

Or the corner booth at your favorite Sunday morning breakfast diner?

Or that iron bench in your backyard?

What possibilities open up for us if the mundane and regular physical spaces of our lives are treated with the same reverence and care we give to a sacred temple or a historic building?

How to make your own sacred spaces

1. State your intention.

Maybe talking to rooms isn’t your thing (don’t knock it ‘til you try it), but you can talk to yourself, right? Whether out loud or in your head, we are talking to ourselves all the time.

In your self-talk, state your intention that your everyday spaces will feel holy to you.

Try filling in these blanks:

I want a kitchen that makes my family and I say things like ________________________.

When I open the door to my bedroom, I want to feel ________________________.

It may not look like much to others, but driving this car reminds me that ________________________.

Setting that intention will trigger a shift in how you experience your physical spaces.

As Wayne Dyer says, “Our intention creates our reality.”

2. Remove things.

Sometimes, less really is more.

A de-cluttering story of mine:

It used to take me weeks to put my freshly folded laundry (I swear they were always clean!) in the drawers where they belonged. They’d hang out in a laundry basket on the floor of my bedroom or, worse, remain stacked in piles on the other half of my bed.

No big deal, right?

Nuh-uh.

One day, I realized that my bedroom was feeling more like a utility closet than a cool, relaxing spot to rest at night. So I got to work.

I put the piles of (clean) laundry away, neatly made my bed, straightened the stack of books on my night table, and threw away the massive collection of half-empty perfume and lotion bottles crowding the top of my dresser.

Then I hung up the painting one of my best friends made for me and lit a stick of incense.

The whole thing took me less than fifteen minutes, but with just a few simple changes, I had turned my bedroom from a cramped storage cupboard into a cocoon for deep rest and reflection.

And for me, that’s sacred.

3. The flip side of de-cluttering your spaces is adding to them.

After clearing stuff away, be deliberate about what things you add to your space. Be curious about the object and why you’re adding it. Try on questions like:

What is the purpose of this candle?

Why am I putting this picture frame here?

I wonder what might happen if I moved the lamp over to the left.

Trust your immediate, gut responses.

Whatever feels good is your compass.
@annikamartins (Click to Tweet!)

This kind of sacred space making doesn’t rely on a historical figure or the approval of an expensive interior designer.

It’s sacred because you say it is.

Does entering that space make your breath steadier? Shoulders softer? Jaw looser?

Then it’s holy. It’s your special space—at least one of them.

It is sacred for you. And that’s all that matters.

Love,

Annika

Annika Martins is a spiritual curator, which is kinda like being a museum curator. Except instead of curating paintings, she curates spiritual practices. From prayer and meditation to surfing and self-touch (oh yah!), pack your curiosity and prepare to expand your definition of what’s high and holy. See God. Your way. It’s all goin’ down at AnnikaMartins.com.

*Image courtesy of zenonline.