A Room with a View
April 4th, 2023
As much as I like the book of that title, and as much as I promise myself to explore more of the works of E. M. Forster in a written form since I know the Merchant & Ivory movies based on his novels— this is not about that book. To be honest, I could use the title of another book for this post — A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Wolf, but that is not the subject as well. So let's start before I lose my train of thought…
A desk, a chair, and a window. And a book. That is all. Those are elemental needs and requirements for me, just like they are for the subject of this painting by Rembrandt. Sunshine coming through the window is nice but is not essential. Rain, with the fat drops splashing and then running down the pane or howling wind forcefully looking for the tiniest entry from outside would be ok as well. Maybe even preferred to the sunshine on some occasions or as an accompaniment to the particular book…
The window itself, and the walls — and the stairs and floors and carpet (if any) have to be solid and thick to securely block the outside noises. Just a little hum — be it from the traffic of people or cars or be it from birds or the said wind — can still slip through the physical barrier that is needed and welcomed in its role. The desk has to be ample and the chair comfortable (but not designed with laziness in mind). Solitude is not compulsory, but quietness is mandatory and essential.
I have it all. The complete setup is right there in front of me. And yet, I feel afraid to use it to its intended implementation. I use it half-correct by physically being in my chair at the desk by the window, with a book open nearby. But I feel the need to keep busy — hitting the keys on the keyboard to put some words and sentences on a screen, or “click” and “click” and “click” on something of no significance on the same screen. I don't do the last part — I don't think in a meditation-like way, I don't slow down my thoughts and I don't control the impulse to divert my interest to a cornucopia of information and instant gratification available to me. That last part seems the hardest, but also it appears as the final element of internal peace. Some practice will be necessary starting now
