I wake up with the sun. I make my coffee and invite myself to my Prayer Chair. We bought that chair for a big house in Michigan when we relocated from a tiny house in California (why would we do that? it’s a long story, basically about money and ambition). In the little house, I did not have a designated place to pray and I ventured from room to room, corner to cubby to find the most comfy spot for contemplation. I never landed in any one spot. One of the bargaining chips my husband used to convince me to move, was new furnishings for a bigger house.
So we bought the Prayer Chair — the first piece of furniture I had ever bought with my own bum in mind. Not that I wouldn’t have shared the chair, but this time the kids were grown and in college and I did not have to share. It was also off white with taupe stripes– a brutal color combination if you have kids underfoot. It was truly a grown-up chair.
When we retired, we moved to our last new address. We refurnished our living room and I thought I had chosen furniture that would match my Prayer Chair. The new furniture only made my old Prayer Chair look even shabbier, and not in a chic way! I looked for a new Prayer Chair to match the new furniture. Comfortable chairs were expensive. They took a long time if you custom ordered them. Ready made ones weren’t comfortable enough for a long prayer sesh.