Sunday, July 1, 2012

A chair is just a chair ....

The song says, "a chair is just a chair, even when there's no one sitting there."
But I don't agree.

A chair can make a difference in your life. A chair can be life-changing. "Oh, come onnnnnnnn!" you say.

Well, what I mean is, a chair can invite you to read or knit or just sit and think in the quiet. It can beckon you to sit and scribble notes about an essay or pour thoughts into a journal. A chair might remind you it's time to curl up for Madmen or fantasize over apartments on Selling New York. And when it's 106 degrees outside and you've been out there watering the yard, a chair might remind you that you better take a load off and drink a glass of ice water before you end up with heat stroke.

A chair can invite you to sit and work out problems. (Preferably while knitting, the best meditative passtime ever.) Important decisions might be made or great ideas may come to you while sitting quietly in a chair, like the premise for a best-selling novel! You can curl up in your chair during those Sunday morning phone calls with the out-of-state relatives and friends, just sipping coffee and catching up. A chair can comfort you and offer you peace and solitude.
But the chair has to be perfect for you. It has to suit you and the things that you will do in it. The pitch of the chair has to be just right for you ... comfortable yet good for your back.  Even the style and the fabric must speak to you.  And it must be your chair in your nook, and no one else's.

A couple of weeks ago I found my chair on sale at World Market. I'd been looking for one for awhile now, for a little spot in my workshop. Not that I have much room in here for a comfy chair, but it seemed to suit the space perfectly ... not too big, not too small ... kind of a Mama Bear's size chair, and very comfortable. So I brought it home and tucked it into a little nook between stacks of fabrics and a bank of file drawers, in front of the TV, near my computer and facing a nice big window. With my knitting basket at my feet, (that dark thing on the chair is a shawl I'm knitting, not a old cat or a yule log or a massive ink stain) and a little stool to one side for my morning coffee, I settled in.
(See? Shawl, not yule log.)

My chair meets all of the above requirements. It brings me comfort and contentment, peace and meditative moments .... if only for a short while each day. Sometimes that's all you need.
And someone else is happy that I've parked this chair here. My miniature dachshund Rosemary, whose massive bed conveniently resides by the file drawers, is overjoyed that I've joined her little world. Just hanging out with mommy now. World complete.

So I put on some Neil Young/Harvest, sit down and knit a couple of rows, and look down to see Rosemary's sweet little face staring up at me adoringly.

From where I sit, life is good.