My Thinking Space

This is week 3 of the Support Driven writing challenge. The prompt “Your Thinking Space” sounded like a Shel Silverstein title to me, so I wanted to try something a little different than usual. Hope you like it, and please send your critiques my way!

“Where do you work best?” they ask. “Where’s the place where your ideas happen?”

Oooh, it’s a special place, I tell them. A small house that lives just outside reality. Filled with colors and sounds like you wouldn’t believe. It’s surrounded by fuzzy edges, so getting inside is a tricky task best achieved when your mind isn’t quite connected to reality. A warm shower, a languorous savasana, a 13 hour bus trip through Turkey; these are the passage ways to The Thinking Space.

It’s a messy Space — a tipped over laundry basket of ideas, a half sketched plan upon the wall. The Thinking Space isn’t meant to house the finished works. This is where we create, not complete. The Thinking Space has a texture — soft, cozy, and complex, like if grandmother’s big quilt became a house.

Sometimes the Thinking Space looks more like a zoo than a house — my monkey mind dancing from thought to thought. We toss… stuff… on the wall, see what sticks. Dreaming days, not thinking days. Not much gets done those days.

The Thinking Space is built around a coffee fountain — the coffee is always hot, and perfectly swirled with cream. My Space runneth over with caffeine. When the coffee is flowing, so are the ideas. With each cup, another plan comes together. Rocket fuel for the brain.

One of the walls is covered in ears. Supportive ears. When I think I have a plan, I yell it at the wall of Supportive ears. They waggle in agreement as I backtrack and add corrections. Sometimes the Thinking Space is more of a talking Space.

On the best days, I sit cross legged on the floor, my ideas around me like a scrapbooker’s paradise. A touch of glue, a dusting of glitter. It’s perfect! I proclaim, and stand back to admire my finished project. Ready for the real world.

My Thinking Space has a launch pad just outside. When the rocket’s assembled, and the pieces are in place, I carry it outside to be placed on the big red bulls-eye. Let’s gooooo, I yell, and we count down to blastoff. Three, two, one… let’s leave this place behind and head for the stars.

Because when the thinking is done, it’s time for the doing.