The Third Floor

January 18th, 2014

Young Girl Hula Hooping on Her BedFor a period of time we lived in a 6-room 3-story home. There were 2 rooms on each floor. Mom and Dad and my brother had the bedrooms on the 2nd floor. I had a bedroom on the 3rd floor. My great-grandmother, Granny Cray, had the other room. Since Granny Cray was a live in maid at a home in the suburbs, she was only home one week-end a month.

One would think that, as a child of 8 or 9, I would be afraid to be on the 3rd floor alone and without the security of an adult near-by, but the 3rd floor was my sanctuary. Most of the homes in that area were 2-story. I loved staring out of the 3rd floor bedroom windows as I gazed over the rooftops and dreamed. I could dream childlike fairy-tale dreams that mirrored the Golden Books that I read over and over until I could recite them word-for-word.

Each evening after lights out, I would creep from my bed and sit by the window as I watched the stars twinkle against the velvety blackness. I stared at the moon and wondered how the cow could jump so high. When there was a full moon, I counted the chimneys and wondered who lived in the houses that went beyond the 3 or 4 blocks that represented my world.

Oh, how I loved the third floor. I didn’t mind that my room was cold in the winter and oh so hot in the summer. I knew nothing about air conditioners or even an electric fan. It was my sanctuary. It was my world. It was the beginning of my creativity – although I didn’t know it at the time. I would allow my mind to wander and in no time at all, a story would begin to form.

When we moved, I missed the third floor. No more rooftops. No more staring up to the heavens and star-lit skies. My bedroom window now faced the blank brick wall that belonged to my next-door neighbor. But, I still had my imagination, only my canvas changed.

The creativity that was born while staring at rooftops remained intact. There were more distractions because my bedroom was on the same floor as the other household bedrooms. As a matter of fact, I now shared a bedroom with my younger brother. Now that’s a distraction, but that’s also another story that I’ll share at another time.

When I’m at a loss of words for a writing assignment, I allow my mind to go back to that third floor bedroom. I have no need for Calgon to take me away. I transition back to that earlier, simpler time when creativity chased me instead of the other way around.

Lorraine Castle is a virtual assistant who works with authors, coaches, trainers, attorneys, and speakers to get speaking engagements, write their books, publish their books, and market their books. Contact Lorraine for a free consultation to find out what she can do to help you develop your gift.

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Written by Lorraine Castle ©2014