This is my meditation space.
It has no candles burning around it. It has no figures or pictures of Buddha or Jesus, or even family. It has no intention cards or decks, speakers to play music, or yoga props. It has no offerings.
What is does have is a pillow, a blanket, and a guided meditation hanging on the wall that I have yet to have needed.
My space may not look glamorous, but it is a home.
A home that is always there for me. A home that can't leave me. A home that doesn't grow old, or burn out, or become worn.
I do love and own almost everything that I've mentioned above - candles, meditative music, pictures. But I have a case for meditation minimalism. And that case is in what I remember every time I sit on that blanket.
I remember that when there is room for change, the more change can come. With no distractions or trinkets influencing your thoughts, you manifest an organic stillness.
I remember that my contentment doesn't come from possessions, but from inside of me. I am the thing that makes myself feel inspired, loved, and happy.
I remember that I am strong enough on my own. When I feel totally alone, that is when my best support comes forth and transforms me.
And finally, I remember that not to make anything special - not even my spiritual practice.
Another upside - it's easy and free to create for yourself.
That way, the effort stays in the heart your practice. And simultaneous change and familiarity becomes the things that matter.
And that's what makes a home.