Peace, Light and Plants: A room redo for meditation and writing

“Trust the unfolding.”

This was the mantra behind the creation of this room. And just like meditation is a practice, trusting the unfolding is a practice too. The unfolding for this project felt slow—too slow at times. The office project was moving along at a steady clip, yet after several months, we still hadn’t settled on the final floor plan for the meditation room.

Ultimately, that was a good thing. Why? Because that is simply how long it took to arrive at what felt right. The room was intended to be a quiet, sacred space for meditation and writing—a place where she could find peace and enter that electric, creative flow-state for her writing practice. How the space made her feel was of paramount importance. This space was for her and her alone.

It is a narrow room on the third floor that looks out into the treetops. From inside, it feels like a little secret treehouse. It once served as a storage room and is just large enough for a desk, a chair, a yoga mat and some plants.

The first step was to paint the walls a beautiful sage green (SW Contented). Next came the floor plan. Originally, she had a chair by the window and imagined a built-in desk near the door. In the spirit of experimentation—and remaining open to possibilities—I brought in a 1980s TV tray and suggested she sit and write in the space every day, moving the table to a different spot each time. She obliged.

Here is the former storage room freshly painted.

The result? She chose a freestanding desk situated by the window. And for meditation? She discovered that she loved sitting on a cushion in the far corner, where she could take in the entire room in all its serene goodness.  The bump-out provided the perfect space for those cute corner shelves where her books could be at close hand.

A view that makes you swoon.

For the furnishings, I offered layout options, provided tools to visualize them, and procured the commercially available pieces. She enjoyed shopping at antique stores in Woodstock, New York, a place she visits often. It was there that she found the desk chair and a small chest to hold her journals and a candle.  The plants were all selected on a fun joint field trip to a local nursery.

By the summer everything had come together.  As she reported in an early-morning voice note from the meditation corner, the space feels like “a little slice of heaven.”

Mission accomplished.