Somewhere between conversation and silence, there is a space where a home begins to speak. Not just walls and furniture, but something deeper—the felt sense of belonging, of exhale, of yes, this is mine.
When a friend comes to me, lost in their space, I feel it immediately—the longing to turn something ordinary into something sacred. They don’t always have the words for it, but I do. It’s in the way they pause at an empty corner, the way they describe what they wish they could feel when they walk into a room. And in those moments, I get to help them. I get to do the thing I love for them.
Listening to the Space
Before I begin, I listen—not just to my friend, but to the space itself. Every room has its own energy, its own needs. Some rooms beg for softness, a place to land. Others want to be alive, filled with light and movement. I stand there, hands resting on the back of a chair, eyes moving over the details.
- What is missing?
- What is already alive?
- Where does the heart of this room want to be?
And then, I start to weave.
The Ritual of Creation
A sanctuary kit isn’t just a box of objects—it’s a ritual, a re-centering. It’s the warmth of a well-placed candle, the grounding weight of a ceramic bowl, the sensuality of fabric that begs to be touched. It’s scent, softness, presence.
I choose each piece intuitively, thinking of my friend—what they need, what they don’t yet realize they need.
- For the one who rushes through life: A reminder to slow down—heavy linen, a low amber glow.
- For the one who feels lost: Anchors of earth—stone, wood, a soft rug beneath bare feet.
- For the one who craves beauty: Something indulgent—a silk throw, a delicate incense.
Each item is placed with intention, an invitation for them to sink into themselves, to feel home inside their own life.
The Moment Everything Clicks
The best part, the reason I do this, is the moment everything clicks. When they walk in, their body relaxes before their mind even catches up. A deep breath, a slow exhale.
“I don’t know what it is, but it feels… different.”
That’s when I know it’s right. Because a true sanctuary doesn’t just look beautiful—it feels like a return.
And for a moment, I get to share that feeling with them. I get to give them a space that doesn’t just exist, but holds them.
That’s why I do this.
That’s why I always will.