by Meredith Siegel Cohen, Creator, Single and Striking Out
There is a point of time in the early morning that is just beautiful. I’d say it’s around 5:30am, when I walk downstairs and my living room, flanked with two long windows, is infused with soft morning light in the shade of amber. As I crack open the shades, the room fills with a hue that reflects subtle orange, mild brown and a hint of yellow. It evokes a sense of peace within me, and a feeling of being grounded regardless of what the day brings.
My mornings are pretty regular –walk Winnie, feed her, walk her again (ugh her routine is maddening), make breakfast and sit down at the table. It is there that I appreciate the quiet street view and the serene way that fleeting light makes me feel. I then catch up on the news, journal, and ready for a new day with my hot coffee. By the time I rise from my seat, the light has already changed to a brighter yellow, reflecting the pace of the evolving day ahead.
Much of life happens at this table, which has a smooth burl wood top and a base painted in a light teal color. When I moved here, I decided I wanted a round piece, to enable inclusive conversation without anyone feeling “left out” on an end. I live in a townhome with one dining area, so this table serves every purpose– everyday meals, holiday gatherings, fun games, and serious conversations. It is used as a writing repository or a workstation when I need a view to the outside (something my basement office lacks), and a spot for much pondering. Initially the company around the table was more robust– I had two lively tweens, both parents and a companion.
Now, it’s often just me sitting at this table. Me and my thoughts. Which is not sad, it’s just different. I see this table now as an anchor, as a symbol of my steadiness through change. When friends and family are here, this is still the central place to come together for sustenance, laughs, planning and discussion. You could say it’s the focal point, or heartbeat, of the house.
As I sit here, I recognize how my thoughts have shifted since I began this blog (most of which has been written at this table). I notice that I have a stronger sense of internal wisdom, a less desperate need for external validation, and more firm boundary setting. I don’t wonder whether a man reaching out might be my “last hope,” and if I should therefore “mold” toward his needs. I’m more comfortable with myself, by myself, which makes all the difference. Am I completely there? No. But has the goal post moved? You better believe it.
It’s my table.
I have the power to determine who will join me, and when. Knowing that I’m okay having a meal by myself is power. Power I most recently tested in a nearby town, on a Saturday night, when I wanted to get dressed and have a fine meal. It was one thing to travel to another state, where no one knew me. Quite another to go just a couple towns over, with the risk of running into people I know. I imagined their thoughts: How pathetic that Meredith is alone on a Saturday night.
Regardless, I took a book, something I’d never done before (and admittedly felt strange), and my seat at a small table facing a window.
Was it easy?
I wouldn’t say that. But it was empowering.
I have as much right as anyone else to be out, with the same autonomy over that small table as I do at my own. I choose the company, which sometimes is simply me. Having increased comfort there was directly due to the work I’ve done here, at this very table where I’m writing now.
Like that amber hue which shifts in the early morning, I am feeling a subtle shift within me. Greater comfort, greater confidence and greater peace with my solo self. And this shift is not limited to relationships. It carries over into all aspects of my life. The tables from which I absorb the view are mine to select.
I don’t dream of sitting at tables alone forever. But the more self-assured I am in what fits — in relationships, careers, or simply on a Wednesday afternoon — the more open I’ll be to what truly belongs.
It’s not about filling every seat, but more about knowing that I belong there. And if I have a beautiful, early morning view, even better.
XO,
Meredith
Have you noticed subtle shifts in yourself lately? Please share in the comments below!
Find us on social media, follow along, and share with others!
