In New York you do not magically have a spare room. Oftentimes, you may not really have a kitchen or you may have a bathroom for which you have to stand in the hallway in order to brush your teeth. Extra space in New York? Nah, never gonna happen. Nonetheless I sit here in a non-crowded cafe (not Starbucks but will remain unnamed so it may remain uncrowded) contemplating what I would fill an extra room with should I have one.
I would not have a game room. I would not have an extra office. Although, the way my workload stacks up I surely could use an extra office or two in which to throw around my yellow idea notepads. It would not be a guest-room as most visitors to New York know if a friend lets you stay at their place, you take any space available considering many hotels start at $300 a night.
I would have a minimally stacked room making it a mental and visualization room where I could think and process. Why not? Might as well be wacky as this extra space is mythical anyway.
First off, I would have a treadmill. I love thinking while working out. I keep a little notepad in the treadmill pocket for book, story or vacation ideas. Yes, occasional work ideas seep into my running consciousness. I am a workaholic mind you. At least I power up my body and expend calories while ostensibly working. Anyway, while running I tend to get amazing ideas and visions of how things are interconnected. While running I make grand leaps of faith in how I process the world.
Second, I would have a fainting couch. I occasionally outrun myself on the treadmill and need to plop thereafter. A fainting couch is just what the doctor ordered. I can lie on the couch and type up my thoughts and turn my ramblings into something semi-coherent plus snarky. In the Victorian era there were grand fainting rooms where women suffering from so-called hysteria got to hang out and decompress. Well, my fainting room would be where I tone my body and mind, and turn my overactive brainwaves into concrete plans and strategies. My fainting room is where I continue to hone and enhance leadership vision.
Third, since this is a mythical room, I would have a futuristic device. It would be a projector that is wirelessly connected to be brain cells tapping into my everyday memories. It would project a memory , an event , a moment in time from everyday of my life. As I lie in my fainting couch charting my future course, I would be shown my past to remind where I had come from and why I needed to keep moving forward. Everyday I would be reminded not only of my own growth as a human being but that of my son and how truly every moment is precious and integral to our development. I wouldn’t be where I am now without experiencing any past moment in time.
As I am finishing my caramel latte waiting for my next meeting to begin, I can’t help but wonder if I will ever look back at this exact moment. I clos my eyes and imprint it.
Inspired by the daily prompt of Breathing Room.