The Big Black Box
A few years ago someone at Robin's work was leaving the country and giving away most of his belongings. From the list, Robin brought home a hanging shoe rack made of heavy canvas and a 27" widescreen TV. The shoe rack remains unused in a closet after three years, but the TV made it into our bedroom.
Our bedroom is typical of a house built in the 50's. It's barely big enough to fit a double bed and the closet works nicely as a spice cabinet. Blinded by the lure of watching letterboxed movies in full-screen, we added the TV to our room, which was already stuffed by our king size bed. The TV covered the entire top of one of our dressers and sat inches from the foot of the bed.
We pretended to ignore this monstrosity and went about our daily lives. We never hooked it up to cable, so we patted ourselves on the back for not really having a TV in the bedroom. "It's not TV, it's just DVDs." Once a week we'd hover in front of it, cocooned in our boat-bed and slobber over the big screen. I will admit it was an enjoyable experience.
But the rest of the week the Big Black Box pervaded the space in the room. There was nowhere to look without seeing it out of the corner of your eye. It quietly seeped positive energy from the room just as it drew electricity from the wall. This was something that happened without notice, and only realized when the thing was gone.
For Robin's birthday, his parents and sister gave him an Apple TV. Long story short, it didn't work with any of our antiquated TVs, so we had to get a new TV just to make it work. The new TV replaced the living room TV, which went into the basement. And the one in the basement (also given to us) would be recycled. I then told Robin I wouldn't be heartbroken if we also got rid of the Big Black Box in our room. He agreed with no protest. Yet another reason I love him.
So yesterday I took the TVs to PC Recycle in Bellevue. It cost $55 to dump them. Since King County no longer accepts TVs in the trash, recycling is your only option unless you can give it to someone with an even older TV than you have.
When I got home, I stared at the naked space above the dresser. I had no remorse. On the contrary, I was exhilarated by the concept of this new open space. It was an invitation for change and I accepted.
I measured the proportions and rearranged the furniture. This dresser there and that dresser here. No need for this chair anymore. That looks better turned this way. A little dusting, some re-organizing, a $5 trash can from Michael's and TADA! - a room that's twice the size with half the clutter.
I laid on the bed for almost an hour, admiring my handiwork. With the Big Black Box gone, air circulated through the room like fairy dust sparkles reflecting the now unobstructed rays of sun. I closed my eyes and inhaled the magical empty space.
During the transformation, I covered a patch of scraped paint with my favorite Smith & Hawken garden calendar from 2006. The photo for July shows an intimate garden retreat, furnished with weathered armchairs and surrounded by well-kept climbing pink roses and jasmine. It complements the room's soothing neutral colors and south-facing sunshine. I imagined sitting in those chairs with good friends, sipping mint juleps.
Above the dresser where the TV used to be, I placed three cut hydrangea flowers in a small, round vase. The violet petals resemble hundreds of tiny butterflies clustered together. Sure beats the black hole that was there before.
When Robin walked into the room after work (I didn't tell him what I'd done), he stood in a corner that had doubled in size and glanced around wide-eyed in gleeful rumination. "I love it," he said.
Eliminating the Big Black Box had transformed the room in such a way that freed up physical, as well as spiritual space. The pressure to watch it is gone, along with the mental debris left by a hundred movies and shows. The room is finally restored to its original intent - a sanctuary for calming thoughts and peaceful sleep. Who doesn't need more of those every day?
Our bedroom is typical of a house built in the 50's. It's barely big enough to fit a double bed and the closet works nicely as a spice cabinet. Blinded by the lure of watching letterboxed movies in full-screen, we added the TV to our room, which was already stuffed by our king size bed. The TV covered the entire top of one of our dressers and sat inches from the foot of the bed.
We pretended to ignore this monstrosity and went about our daily lives. We never hooked it up to cable, so we patted ourselves on the back for not really having a TV in the bedroom. "It's not TV, it's just DVDs." Once a week we'd hover in front of it, cocooned in our boat-bed and slobber over the big screen. I will admit it was an enjoyable experience.
But the rest of the week the Big Black Box pervaded the space in the room. There was nowhere to look without seeing it out of the corner of your eye. It quietly seeped positive energy from the room just as it drew electricity from the wall. This was something that happened without notice, and only realized when the thing was gone.
For Robin's birthday, his parents and sister gave him an Apple TV. Long story short, it didn't work with any of our antiquated TVs, so we had to get a new TV just to make it work. The new TV replaced the living room TV, which went into the basement. And the one in the basement (also given to us) would be recycled. I then told Robin I wouldn't be heartbroken if we also got rid of the Big Black Box in our room. He agreed with no protest. Yet another reason I love him.
So yesterday I took the TVs to PC Recycle in Bellevue. It cost $55 to dump them. Since King County no longer accepts TVs in the trash, recycling is your only option unless you can give it to someone with an even older TV than you have.
When I got home, I stared at the naked space above the dresser. I had no remorse. On the contrary, I was exhilarated by the concept of this new open space. It was an invitation for change and I accepted.
I measured the proportions and rearranged the furniture. This dresser there and that dresser here. No need for this chair anymore. That looks better turned this way. A little dusting, some re-organizing, a $5 trash can from Michael's and TADA! - a room that's twice the size with half the clutter.
I laid on the bed for almost an hour, admiring my handiwork. With the Big Black Box gone, air circulated through the room like fairy dust sparkles reflecting the now unobstructed rays of sun. I closed my eyes and inhaled the magical empty space.
During the transformation, I covered a patch of scraped paint with my favorite Smith & Hawken garden calendar from 2006. The photo for July shows an intimate garden retreat, furnished with weathered armchairs and surrounded by well-kept climbing pink roses and jasmine. It complements the room's soothing neutral colors and south-facing sunshine. I imagined sitting in those chairs with good friends, sipping mint juleps.
Above the dresser where the TV used to be, I placed three cut hydrangea flowers in a small, round vase. The violet petals resemble hundreds of tiny butterflies clustered together. Sure beats the black hole that was there before.
When Robin walked into the room after work (I didn't tell him what I'd done), he stood in a corner that had doubled in size and glanced around wide-eyed in gleeful rumination. "I love it," he said.
Eliminating the Big Black Box had transformed the room in such a way that freed up physical, as well as spiritual space. The pressure to watch it is gone, along with the mental debris left by a hundred movies and shows. The room is finally restored to its original intent - a sanctuary for calming thoughts and peaceful sleep. Who doesn't need more of those every day?
posted by Anne at 9:14 PM
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