This is my third post in a series about my Japanese-inspired floor desk. In case you missed them, check out the first posts below:
Part 3: My Japanese-Inspired Floor Desk: 1 year later
Over the last year and a half, my Japanese-inspired desk was a refuge in a difficult time. It had slowly transformed from a makeshift space into a place I created with intention, where I could explore and create and be myself. And be with myself. I was there all the time and when I wasn’t sitting there, I was called to it. I felt my most creative there.
A couple months ago, we purchased a larger bed, and removing my low desk seemed like a logical way to make the bedroom look less crowded. So I disassembled my refuge almost exactly a year after I got everything set up just the way I wanted it.
I even wrote a blog about the process of breaking down my desk, but no matter how many times I edited the blog, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to post it. Just like I couldn’t seem to sell or donate much of what I’d used to create my space, except the shoe bench (which I gave to a friend) and the monitor (which I sold knowing I’d rather replace it if I decided to set up again). Maybe on some level, I knew I still needed the refuge.
Still, I thought I had developed my creative habits well enough to work in my office and that I was ready to let go of this space.
I was wrong.
After weeks without the space, I realized it had become so important that I could not be without it. I suppose I should not have been surprised by this, but I was. I did try writing at my work desk but it wasn’t the same. I tried the couch, but any extended time on my laptop keyboard made my wrists ache. So to spare my wrists, I stopped writing as much.
What actually happened when I removed my creative space was a disconnection from myself. I stopped writing and basically buried my head in the sand — and by “sand” I mean “nostalgic TV and video games.”
After weeks of denial and trying to figure out where else I could set up my desk, I finally asked myself why I was complicating a situation when I already knew the answer. Sure, a desk means extra furniture in the bedroom, but it’s not clutter if the space is functional and brings me joy.
So yesterday, I reset my space — nearly exactly as it was, with a couple exceptions. Now I’m using a cube shelf we already had but will find another shoe bench in the future. And I’m using my 13″ tablet screen for the time being. Now that I know my creative desk is here to stay, I’ll find a deal on a better monitor to invest in protecting my eyes.
The picture for this post shows my low desk as it exists right now, as a work in progress. But I’m feeling really good about having my space back. It feels like coming home. And I’m excited to have a space study Japanese too.