I now have a space that truly belongs to me. To be honest, I’ve always had one over the years, but this year, I finally designed an actual workspace for myself. I bought a standing desk, an item I’d heard good things about, laid down a small round rug, and hung the flowing curtains I’d always wanted.

When I travel, I always stay in hotels that never really feel like home. And when I come back, this rented apartment didn’t quite feel like home either. But now, I have a room that’s mine. I write almost every day at this desk by the window. Over the weekend, I did a deep clean. With summer approaching, I decided to start walking barefoot around the room.

Later, I revisited a note I wrote a while back—a list of what my dream room should be like. And to my surprise, almost all of them have come true. Just like Virginia Woolf said, I now have a room of my own. All the seemingly unreachable dreams suddenly feel a bit closer. Every moment when the ceiling fan starts spinning feels like a moment straight out of the life I once dreamed of.

This room isn’t just for sleeping. It holds all sorts of wild dreams. A dream room doesn’t need to be filled with luxury—it needs to be created bit by bit with heart. And change doesn’t always happen all at once. I started by replacing the light fixture with a ceiling fan I liked, and unplugged the AC unit. My friend warned me I’d miss the air conditioning when summer really hits. But why should I worry in spring about something that hasn’t even happened yet?

The bay window next to my desk doesn’t block much light. Another friend said it might affect my sleep. But isn’t dawn the time I should be waking up anyway?

People have very different definitions of an ideal life. Aside from wanting lots of money, our other desires may vary completely. And that’s okay. What matters is knowing what you want most—then it’ll come, sooner or later. You don’t have to stay up waiting for it. When the time is right, the flower will bloom.

I think Woolf’s ideal room wasn’t necessarily lavish either. She must have had her moments of confusion and tears there, too. But she didn’t give up on that light by the window. And neither should you. Keep walking steadily toward your dreams. Live every day well along the way. When the flowers bloom becomes less important, the process does!

Oh—I also hung a wind chime by the window. At first, I kept waiting for the wind to come, asking why it hadn’t made a sound. But over time, I got busy and forgot about it. Then, in the middle of the night when the wind finally came, it carried tender jingles into my dreams.

So whether I’m asleep or awake, beautiful things are always happening.

I hope you have a window like this too—a room with a lockable door, and most of all, a space that belongs only to you. By the sea, in the forest, or right here in the middle of a noisy city.