Troubadour Hope Chest
It provokes. It challenges. It lures. It’s beautiful. It contains and protects hopes and dreams. It takes up space. It’s practical. Every home needs a Troubadour Hope Chest
A couple of weeks ago I met with friend and fellow slow learner, Tricia Postle.
Together Tricia and I formed a group we call COTH or Creativity-On-The-Hook. Once a month, we meet for tea, state our intentions, and report to each other on our progress. See earlier entry.
During our first meeting, Tricia shared the details of her intentions: her to do lists, her goals, her best intentions. I didn’t want to say anything at the time, but most of the items on her list felt dull and ordinary, full of duty and obligation and all those good things necessary to support and nurture Tricia’s brilliant creative projects.
But then Tricia started talking about how she wanted to someday travel as a troubadour musician. She spoke about rhythms, the songs, the traveling, the Persian rugs, the tour mobile, the demands of composing in the form, the possibility of a postmodern gypsy caravan. When she spoke about her future life as a troubadour, her physical presence transformed. She sat straight up. Her eyes brightened, and her voice lightened. Her visions of self as troubadour literally pulled her forward. There was a passionate woman in love with her future, speaking of longing and desire, sitting at the edge of her seat.
That’s when the idea came: why not invite some of this passion and desire into the everyday? Why not bring something physical and real into our homes as a reminder of what is possible? Why not use this container as a repository for carefully selected objects that bring us closer to a future we want to live into?
After some searching, Tricia now has her Troubadour Hope Chest.
In an email, Tricia says:
I like that it’s empty, I like that it’s there. I rearranged the studio so that it’s visible from all points. It seems to glow and make the rest of the furniture recede. In short, every household should have one.
Questions for reflection: What’s calling me forward? What kind of future might I create from my own longings? What kind of hope chest might I find?