Space making for transition times (and why grown ups need blanket forts too)
I remember when I was small I had a pale blue hair clip that was wide and toothy, it opened like a jaw. I don’t remember it in my hair, instead I recall using it to attach a bed-sheet to a curtain, creating a fabric canopy across the living room. After the first few blanket forts that I made with my Dad, my brother was born. After that, I used to make blanket forts for the two of us.
There were under-table tents; there were boats made out of lain down chairs; there were sofa-extensions with walls and cubbies so that we could be together, but in our own spaces.
When they were made, we would bring books, snacks and toys to make our stay more enjoyable. And we’d just hang out, not playing together directly, but resting in our own worlds of contemplation.
Traditionally associated with rainy days, this activity directs attention toward settling down inside, and creating a place that you want to be.
The act of settling is comparable to building shelter out of branches in a forest.
I have recently been thinking about how a blanket fort tends to take over a whole room and re-purpose it. Building one relies on using the largest of household items in unconventional ways to create sculptures you can climb and crawl into, to find shelter and enclosure.
It relies on turning order upside-down.
Sometimes creating space to feel, to think, or to rest means turning order upside-down.
Making a blanket fort is the action of creating spaces within spaces, re-arranging priorities, and pressing the pause button on everything else.
I was initially surprised to learn there are hardly any photos of my childhood blanket forts. There is just one, taken a few months after my family moved to New Zealand when I was nine years old. I remember the house on ‘North Rd’ was dark and the New Zealand winter was cold. In the photo am sitting reading in the muted light of a bay window, with my brother in the foreground. He is sitting in the middle of a castle of blankets. We are together, but in our own worlds.
Even if they don’t look like forts, the function of a blanket fort is to create a border or boundary within which to rest, play, think, and generally keep away from the productive doings of adult society.
Given how capitalist adult society has, in the main, been collectively acting as though we have forgotten how to rest; how to pause; how to care for ourselves when things feel “too much” with us, I’d like you to consider that perhaps grown-ups need blanket forts too.
Not just the mess.
But the process of making a mess.
Pressing pause.
Making space.
Gathering to you a nest of comfort and contemplation.
Arranging your space how you like it.
Creating an enclosure to nest in, to roost in.
There’s time for soaring into the sky later.
I was the mother of a 9 year old when I first embraced blanket forts for grown-ups. It was a school holiday and I had a really bad cold, with very little energy for anything. Building the blanket fort gave us something to do, and somewhere for me to rest. My son wanted to play a game. I wanted to stay horizontal and be held by the the earth.
“Let’s make weapons out of garden equipment and battle invisible monsters!”
Enthusiasm. Creativity. Energy.
The blanket fort clearly needed protecting.
I explained to him that I couldn’t possibly move and he would need to protect me and the fort from the invisible monsters.
He helpfully made each one visible by cataloguing them after each battle, drawing a picture with key notes on how to fight them.
Next time you have invisible monsters like fear, grief, doubt and judgement to slay, might I suggest that you create a suitable fort first and let your creativity guide your way.
And remember…
There is a time for heat and a time for cool, a time for brightness and a time for the darkness. There is a time to see clearly and a time to rest your eyes. There is a time for furling outward into the world to be seen and a time for furling inward into the other world to remember.
Sometimes I just need to write
Sometimes I just need to daydream
Sometimes I need to rearrange my space
Sometimes I need to do nothing
Sometimes…
Let there be room for all of the things
So that in creativity we can respond
To what is happening in our worlds
To what is needed next this week, this hour, this moment.
What is happening in your world and what is your inner world whispering to you?