As you walk along the passage in the gloom of the very early morning, here is my door, with my coat and hat and umbrella and shopping bag hanging on it ready. My laundry was on the line all day yesterday but it rained a lot in the morning, so it's hooked up for its final airing in the doorway to the right and on the radiator to the left.
Then you go inside.
As you see, I have this chair.
It is very large, because I like to curl up when I'm sitting otherwise my legs go wrong.
That's fine, but the thing is, then I can't really have my bed out — because it fills up all the floor that's left. I did have the chair in someone else's room so I had space for my bed, but I took it back recently because a) it wasn't fair on her and b) I wanted to sit on it. In actual fact one or other of the cats is usually asleep on it most of the day so I still have to find and alternative — but sitting on it is my intention anyway.
I have a nifty reading lamp behind my chair.
You can have it very bright or dim, and it folds absolutely flat if you want to put it away on a shelf (I do sometimes).
But mostly I keep it like this, where it's very unobtrusive on the windowsill.
If you turn it on when it's folded down like that, it emits just enough light for if you like quiet ambient light. You only have to tap the base to turn it on, and touch it to dim or brighten it.
Both my lamps are cordless (USB charging) and they are that kind of bulb I've momentarily forgotten the name of — the sort that uses very little energy.
Here's my wardrobe, and my other coat hanging on this side of the door.
Next to my wardrobe is my bookcase, then the table with my lamp and my mug of nettle tea and whatnot.
The other side of the door I have a wall decal of Buddha — a cunning plan to save space. I have in the past had a buddha larger that that in this room, but sadly Big Buddha had to find another home because this is only a tiny room, about 9' by 6'6".
Some Christian people are uncomfortable with the spiritual representations of other faith paths (I'm choosing my words carefully because buddhism is not a religion and Buddha is not a god), but I like them.
I have a dancing Ganesh, who speaks of divine playfulness, humour and imagination, and Shiva, who reminds us of God dancing in creation.
I also have a large picture of Jesus. I was going to say I have it close by where I can see it — but that's true of everything in this room. He, my ascended master, reaches through from where he is to where I am, to lift me into his presence.
But the triumph aspect of all this lies within the wardrobe, where I managed to so organise everything that I could put my bed away in the daytime and so have both the chair and the bed in my tiny room.
I was so pleased with myself. It all fits in just perfectly, with my stationery box and my shopping basket tucked away beside my chair.
It's not unknown for a reader to chide me for my frivolous preoccupations, especially if he or she has a very difficult life — as many of you do. People have some tough struggles to cope with, and my ramblings about my room and my clothes can seem trivial.
But you should always remember the room inside my head is bigger than the one I physically occupy, the landscape of my daily life also has its mountains and thorns and dark gorges that you don't know about, and there are reasons for my choices concerning what to talk about and what to keep wrapped in silence.
Never jump to conclusions when you don't know someone all that well (even if you think you do).