My teenage daughter screeches into my bedroom on two wheels while I'm changing.
"Do you mind?" I say.
"No, actually," she says, then heads straight to my makeup drawer to help herself.
"Isn't any place sacred in this house?" I ask, echoing a line my dad used to say whenever we'd barge in on him.
"Nope," she says, and exits with my 10-dollar mascara.
Ahh, for that little sacred spot at home. That private corner where you can escape, rejuvenate and focus on your inner life, which in my case has been shrink-wrapped and set on a shelf till I can get to it. But inner lives need rooms, too.
Some people set out Tibetan singing bowls or meditation tingas. Others focus on their seven chakras, or set up shrines with Buddha figures, or altars with Lady of Fatima statues. Some pray, meditate or practice yoga.
People are also reading…
Reading regenerates me. And though I have the perfect sacred place for it, a reading loft, I don't use it. When I designed it, I envisioned a place where my kids wouldn't ask me to untangle their Slinky, where my e-mails and work piles wouldn't tug at me like a leash, where I could get lost in lofty thoughts, and, yes, read.
I lined two walls of the 8-by-10 loft with bookcases and filled them with books acquired like friends over a lifetime. I planned to curl up there regularly in a soft chair, with good light, a dog on my lap, a cup of tea, and a Russian novel.
Four years after I set the room up, I actually tried that. I found a slice of time in between making lunches, meeting deadlines, driving kids from soccer to gymnastics, getting groceries, exfoliating, paying bills, combating cellulite, pumping gas and taking the dogs to the groomers, and just seized it. Just as I got rolling on Tolstoy's "Anna Karenina," and was up to page 7, I heard my daughter.
"Mo-om."
I stayed silent.
"Mooo-ooom!" She raised the knell 10 decibels. I thought maybe I should answer.
"She's not here!" I called back.
"Where are you?"
"Out of the country."
Next, she was in the sacred space. "What are you doing here? You're never in here. You're still making dinner, right?"
"I'm making time for my inner life."
"I was hoping you'd make tacos."
So much for sacred.
To help me better nurture my inner life, I called Riv Lynch, owner of Sacred Spaces, an organizing company in Highland Park, Ill., who offered insights for creating a sacred space at your place.
• Know their roots. Sacred spaces in homes aren't a new idea. They were found in rural medieval European homes where people lived too far from communal churches to attend them. Centuries ago, Mexicans also began making altars in their homes for worship.
• Define your purpose. That sounds heavy, but it just means figure out how you want to chill. Through yoga, meditation, prayer, reading, navel gazing or journal writing. Then make sure the space accommodates that purpose. For instance, if you want to practice yoga, be sure you can kneel on all fours and jut your leg out without breaking a window.
• Find your spot. Consider creating a sequestered place in your garden, an altar in your entry, a devotional corner in your bedroom. Wherever it is, the space should feel serene. You should not see your bill pile, your unwashed dishes, your dirty laundry or other worldly distractions. Consider sectioning it off with a screen.
• Make it minimal. Include only items that support your activity. Bring in mats or pillows for meditation or yoga, and candles and religious icons for worship. Bring in any object that inspires you, such as a shell from a beach where you made a promise. If your space is for reading, have a comfortable chair, good light and a side table. If you'll be journaling, have a small writing desk. If you want to listen to music or nature sounds, add a CD player.
• Exclude the outside world. Ban phones, televisions, computers and anything work related.
And find the time to get there.
Escape, rejuvenate and refocus

