She stares at me confused. So I explain that this is my altar, that its contents change constantly according to what the universe floats my way. I explain to her that this altar is a reflection and an acknowledgement, a comfort and a challenge, a reminder of the past and the present and the future.
A week later she invites me to her home. In the middle of a shelf in a bookcase there is a space between the books. And in the space there is a little wooden tray carved into the shape of a ladybird. And on the tray there are five sea shells and a child's drawing of a butterfly. Flotsam, she says.
Bits of flotsam are what changes my living space from a house into a home. I have many treasured bits and bobs that have no monetary value but are irreplaceable and mean the world to me. Sometimes it's good just to take a step back from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and take the time to notice them again.