In the tarot, The Fool is assigned the number 0. It both begins and ends the journey through the major arcana, just as midnight both ends one day and begins the next. Likewise, when you think about how we move through our days, the journey begins and ends in the bedroom. It is the scene of our latest nights, our earliest mornings and everything in between. It completes one cycle and simultaneously begins another.
This dualism is always present in the bedroom. It’s where the sun greets us each day, but also where the midnight shadows find us. It’s where we dare to dream, but also where we face our most terrifying nightmares. It’s where we rest our heads, but also where we experience the throes of passion.
The only real requirement of a bedroom is that there is a bed in it. Sleep is, after all, the primary function of the bedroom. The bedroom is synonymous with reflection, contemplation and solitude. Quite often it is the first space that is all our own and so it becomes a personal retreat of sorts. From a young age it is the space we go to relax, unwind and escape.
There is a deeply private and personal nature to the bedroom. Within the home there are private and public spaces—ones that are for guests and ones that are just for us. In our youth, the bedroom is a hybrid space. It is where we have playdates, host sleepovers and hang with our friends. In early adulthood, living in a college dorm or studio apartment, it's our whole world. But as we grow, it evolves into our innermost sanctum that only our nearest and dearest are invited into.
By any definition, the bedroom is a place of intimacy. It’s where we merge with another, fall in love, share a bed. This space that was once wholly our own welcomes in another. Sometimes permanently, sometimes just for a night. It is where we are our most vulnerable. Not only with others, but also with ourselves.
From an archetypal perspective, the bedroom is a deeply feminine environment, in the Daoist or Jungian sense. It’s quiet, passive and soft. Under cloak of darkness we are free to enter the liminal world of our intuition and dreams. It is the scene of our wildest fantasies. We fall asleep imagining the possibilities tomorrow holds for us. It is in this space that we are forced to confront our own lightness and darkness, facing our most chilling nightmares and indulging our sweetest dreams.
There is a nocturnal quality to the bedroom. It’s the only room we primarily inhabit in the dark. It is human nature to be afraid of the unseen realms. It is here that we are pushed to confront our personal demons. As distractions fall away, the chatter of the mind takes center stage. The truth is, we can’t hide from ourselves in the bedroom. It knows all our secrets.
And there is always a tension to the bedroom, a push and pull between night and day, primal and etheric, the activity of sex and the passivity of sleep, the grounding of rest and the escapism of dreams. It is a place of transition, from one world to another, from one day to the next.
And yet, amidst all this tension, arises love.
No matter how you slice it, the bedroom is a sphere of love. Of course, it is where we literally make love, but it’s so much more than that. It is also where we tend to our bodies when we are sick and tired. It’s where we rest our spirits when they are weary. It’s where our parents read us bedtime stories and tucked us in at night. It’s where we go to escape the noise of the world and recenter ourselves. The bedroom is a deeply restorative environment. It is the scene of self care at its simplest—a good night’s sleep.
When we tend to our spaces, the bedroom is often overlooked. Given its private nature it isn’t always prioritized because few will really see it. The bedroom often becomes a dumping ground to keep the public spheres of the home flowing, functioning and presentable. Clutter often gets swept from the public areas to the private ones (think bedrooms, bathrooms, closets). The bedroom can take on the energy of a junk drawer or chaotic closet. Just shut the door and no one will know it’s there! The attitude towards bedrooms is often *only I’m seeing this so it doesn’t really matter*—but perhaps that’s why it matters most of all?
TO CONTEMPLATE:
What is the story of your bed? What is its history, where has it been with you, what moments in your life has it seen?
How can you play with tension and duality in the design of your bedroom? For example light and dark, yin and yang, etc?
How would it feel to invite another into your bedroom right now—a lover, a friend, a new acquaintance? What would they see, and is there anything you are hiding away here?
-MRD
