DEAR KRISTIN: I enjoyed your column several weeks ago about creating “spontaneous spaces of tranquility” in the workplace. I’ve tried some of your suggestions, and they work ... in the office, anyway.

Now, though, I’m trying to find this same sense of tranquility at home. I know you often say that true tranquility emanates from within -- and for the most part, I agree. That’s why I feel a little guilty about needing -- and creating -- a quiet space at home that belongs to me and me alone; an actual physical space to which I can retreat.

I love my three kids more than life itself, but I’m thinking of building a “she-shed” in the backyard to help keep me sane and centered. If my tranquility really does emanate from within -- and I believe it does -- then how can I justify this act of intentional escapism? I don’t want to feel guilty about high-tailing it out to my she-shed every time I feel stressed. Help me not feel so hypocritical. I just want to feel tranquility at home. -- TRANQUILITY SEEKER

DEAR SEEKER: First off, I need to say this: I love you. I do. I love you. And I love your clear-sighted, wide-eyed sense of self-awareness, sweet sister.

That you are able to see and touch the various levels of this thing I call “transportable tranquility” fills me with joy. And while tranquility itself is pure and sweet and elegantly simplistic, its attainment and pursuit can become quite complicated ... if we let it. The secret sauce? Don’t let it! Refuse to let the attainment of your own inner peace get too complicated. It kinda defeats the purpose.

You and I are in complete alignment, actually. We both believe that tranquility emanates from within. That said, we also both believe that it is our privilege and our responsibility to develop the necessary tools and resources we need to access this tranquility that is waiting within us, amen?

Read my next words carefully: Our heart is our home, and our sense of inner peace needs to feel welcome in our heart-home, yes?

Unfortunately, for many of us, our heart-homes are kind of hard to access. Gaining entry is more than a notion. For any number of reasons, we’ve erected barriers. There are secret entrances, sealed-up windows, and dead-end hallways galore. Barriers into our own heart-homes? This won’t do!

What we must do -- and what you are doing so beautifully with the eventual creation of your she-shed -- is to redefine your relationship with your own tranquility by inviting it in; by creating a special space for it to grow and thrive and stretch into itself.

This is how we access these inner spaces, sister. This is how we begin to unlock and awaken the peace that is already within us -- by inviting it in! Many people, though, are like bears hibernating in the woods: their inner peace is dormant. Fast asleep. This hibernating tranquility must be activated and awakened -- but such awakening can come only through conscious choice, followed by decisive action. You have made the conscious choice to awaken your tranquility. Give yourself a hug for that.

And the next step must be action.

Let me also tell you this: To seek this inner tranquility within the space of your own home is not at all hypocritical. As women, as mothers, as human beings living in this world who are hungry to become the very best version of ourselves that we can possibly become, we must rid ourselves of the notion that this search for inner peace is somehow hypocritical. It breaks my heart to see you use that word.

There is nothing hypocritical about wanting to create your own purposeful pocket of peace. It doesn’t make you a bad mother, an inattentive spouse, or a self-centered escape artist. It makes you an enlightened human. Creating a place of peace for yourself helps you fortify your inner tranquility. That’s not hypocritical: It’s heroic.

I’ve written before about creating tranquil places in the workplace, but now I want to share my own experiences with creating those tranquil places at home as well. This is how I share my wisdom -- by sharing my own human experiences.

I suppose what I have created inside my own home was (and is) my very own version of a she-shed ... except it is a closet. I call it my Prayer Closet.

I created it during the height of the pandemic. I converted the closet in a spare bedroom into a sweet little soul sanctuary. I was yearning for a special, separate, closed-in space that would wrap me up, settle me down, and strengthen my connection to the divine. A place that belonged to me and me alone. Again, what I created is my version of your she-shed. This is how I did it:

First, I set my intention.

Then I got to work.

Remember Marie Kondo’s bestselling book, “The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up”?

Well, I Marie-Kondo-ed the heck out of that bedroom closet, and had myself a wonderful time doing it, too! I sat down on my closet floor -- cross-legged and with a cup of chamomile -- and became strategically selective. In true Marie Kondo fashion, I carefully held each object in my hands and asked myself whether that object still brought me joy. If it didn’t, I bid it adieu and found another place for it.

But I went one important step further. As I held each object in my hand, I also asked myself, “Will you be able to help me on my journey towards deeper tranquility and a more purposeful prayer life? Will your continued presence in my closet-turned-soul-sanctuary propel me on my journey, or will your presence in my tiny space hold me back?”

Today, every single thing that’s in my Prayer Closet is there for a purpose. The clothes hangers, for instance, had to go. As pretty as they were (baby blue, padded satin), they didn’t really bring me inner peace or accentuate my prayer path. Also removed were the filled-to-the-brim boxes and storage bins. Cardboard boxes don’t bring me comfort. Nor do the natty sweaters from my college days. Out they all went.

In their place, I brought in a little vanity chair (sometimes I like to sit when I pray, ‘cause these old knees aren’t as resilient as they used to be), a few throw pillows, my Bible, and a gratitude journal. I painted the walls robin’s-egg blue and the ceiling yellow -- my water and sunshine colors -- and I even found a small, previously owned chandelier that casts a light, when you turn it on, that looks like the rays of the sun shining on my little closet ceiling. I retreat to this special space all the time.

So keep your she-shed plans alive, Beloved. And don’t just “escape” to your place of peace when you’re feeling stressed. Go there when you’re feeling balanced and buoyant, too! Use your special space to feed your tranquility, not just to seek it. This will help you create a sense of emotional and spiritual equilibrium that is constant, rather than merely situational.

And here I speak to all of my readers: The ability to access our own tranquility belongs to each and every one of us. I see it as a personal and mandatory journey upon which we all must embark.

Create and customize a space that works best for you in your own life -- whether it’s a she-shed, a man-cave, or simply a human-centered soul sanctuary that refuses to be bound by gender classification. Call it whatever the heck you want to call it -- just make it your own.

Throw open the doors and windows of your heart-home -- and if those entrances have been sealed shut, pull out the crowbar and start tearing off those boards! Fling open those locked doors! Throw open those shut-tight windows! And if they won’t open, then dammit, create new ones!

Shhh ... Do you hear it?

It’s the sound of your own tranquility.

It’s knocking at your door. It’s waiting to enter.

Do whatever you need to do to let it know it’s welcome.

DEAR KRISTIN: As I move more fully into 2023, I’ve made the decision to put self-care at the very top of my priority list. Why not place myself at the top of the heap? For years, I’ve been caring for others, focusing on others, nurturing others. As a result, my proverbial well has almost run dry.

Before I become totally parched, before my own waters run completely dry, I need to place renewed attention on my own needs and my own well-being, but something is still worrying me: Is there a potential for my self-care to become selfish? -- THIRSTY

DEAR THIRSTY: I love you -- I mean, I really love you -- for even raising the question about the potential for self-care to become selfish, because it shows a heightened sense of awareness.

Everyone’s talking and writing about self-care these days. It’s on the tip of almost every lip. The very act of seeking self-care has itself become a loud new priority and a victorious new anthem song -- and the good news is that it is women who seem to be singing it the loudest. We are the ones who so often fill the role of nurturer, caregiver, and yes, pleaser of people; we are the ones who often care for others until it hurts.

It's about time, then, for us to start showering ourselves with at least as much tender loving care as we shower over others. Fill our own cups first so that we have enough to give others. You know -- place the oxygen mask over your own face first. I get all that. I really do.

But the beauty lies in the balance. The beauty lies in the shining awareness that this isn’t an all-or-nothing game. As fully evolved and beautifully enlightened human beings, we are certainly capable of caring for ourselves and caring for others simultaneously, yes? The issue is balance and the issue is conscious choice, both of which require heightened discernment and self-awareness.

I have to be able to discern when my own tank needs refilling. If I’m running on empty and cannot take care of myself, there’s no way in the world I can maintain enough speed to catch up to you to make sure you’re okay, too. This is the heightened discernment and self-awareness I’m talking about: I’ve gotta be able to discern when my own tank is low so I can swing by the corner gas station and fill up. But if I’m on empty, I ain’t going nowhere.

But there is good news here, too: I really do firmly believe that we can care for ourselves and each other at the same time, because guess what? Caring for someone else doesn’t require me to reduce the amount of love that rests in my heart center! Where is it written that tending to my own needs -- saying “yes” to myself -- means that I won’t have enough love remaining in my heart to share with others?

I don’t want to get too deep here, but I’ll say this about love: Love is infinite. That means there will always be enough to go around. What is not infinite, however, is time. Time itself is about as finite as you can get -- not only finite, but in dangerously short supply, as evidenced by the hectic, harried lives we all lead. This forces us to make some important (and difficult) choices.

I’ll use myself as an example: I must make the time -- by purposefully taking the time -- during the eight hours I have each day, not just to care for others, but to care for myself. This requires planning and prioritization. It will require planning and prioritization on your part as well, Beloved. Schedule it out. Write it down. Stake the claim and set your intention. Self-care does not happen spontaneously.

You’ve already said you’ve decided to make self-care a priority in 2023. Congratulations! You’ve set your intention! Now comes the hard part: Now you must take the action. Execute. Manifest. Make it happen. Do the deed, sister. And as you do, try to maintain this beautiful balancing act I’m describing -- this balance between the infinite (namely, love) with the infinite (namely, not enough hours in the day). This will require you to find a new rhythm. I’ve no doubt that you can do it.

You mention that you’ve been focusing on caring for others for many years, and that you’re beginning to feel like your own well is running dry. You are right to be concerned, and you are right to begin listening to your heart when it whispers to you, “Take care of me, too! Don’t forget about me!” We must not forget to nurture, celebrate, and love ourselves. Loving others is key -- but self-love is vital, too.

The good news, again, is that you can do both! Doing one doesn’t cancel out the other. In fact -- and I’m using myself as an example here -- caring for others is itself a form of self-care ... within reason, that is. Let me explain:

There is something about the act of caring for those who are in need that is itself energizing, validating, and connective. Even when I am running on empty (or close to it), mustering up enough energy to help someone else often gives me the jet-propulsion I need to keep on going; to keep pushing. To keep placing one foot in front of the other. Love is energizing.

I know I said this earlier, but I feel like shouting it out again: The beauty of deciding to devote more time to self-care is that it doesn’t require you to constrict or narrow the size of your own heart center. If anything, it requires you to expand the size of your heart center. Expansion, not restriction.

And I’ll finish with this: I don’t think anyone believes that self-care, in and of itself, is selfish. The caring and nurturing of ourselves is essential to our very survival. Where the slope becomes slippery, though, is when we place self-care on a pedestal to the exclusion of all else.

I suppose what I’m trying to say is that if we are not careful, if we are not mindful, if we are not intelligent and intentional about the choices we make and the priorities we set, yes, the potential certainly exists for self-care to become selfish. Within this beautiful balance is where both the power and the glory live.

Self-care becomes selfish, in my opinion, when it becomes all that there is; when it exists alone, to the exclusion of all else. In other words, when we place ourselves at the top of the priority list to the exclusion of all else.

We cannot afford to focus solely on self-care. You know what? Scratch that last sentence. I don’t want to sound preachy and dictatorial. Instead, I’ll say that I -- emphasis on the word “I” -- cannot afford to focus solely on my own self-care. And you might not want to, either. When this happens, we have arrived at the intersection of selfishness and self-absorption -- definitely not a place I want to be.

May I suggest looking at this a bit more expansively? Instead of putting yourself, as you say, “at the top of the heap” -- your words, not mine -- why not kick this hierarchical thinking to the curb altogether? Why must there be “a heap” at all?

Instead of visualizing yourself at the top of the heap, why not try placing yourself at the solid center of your circle instead? Why not be the hub at the center of your own, beautiful wheel? A wheel that has many spokes and includes many people, all of whom benefit from your presence in their lives?

Our proclivity to be at the top of the heap, to solidify our place as King or Queen of the hill, only helps solidify our own hierarchical understanding of the world around us. Last time I checked, we all exist in the world together. We belong to each other.

So sing your self-care anthem in a loud and happy voice, sister, but don’t let your higher decibel level drown out the voices of those who are calling (maybe even whispering) for your continued love and compassion.

As you redefine your relationship with love (and with self-love), position yourself at the center of your heart wheel -- rather than the top of your heap.

It will feel better.

DEAR KRISTIN: My employer has notified me that working from home is no longer an option. Like many people, I am now working in the office again, full-time. After two years of working from home, I’d established a peaceful, productive work-life rhythm.

Now, suddenly, I’m back to sharing (and spreading) germs in a shared office environment. Back to inane water cooler conversations. Back to being stuck in a four-door metal box on the freeway for three hours every day.

My concentration and productivity levels have dropped and my inner peace has been severely compromised ... at least until the moment I walk through my door at the end of each day. As if all this weren’t enough, I’m now grappling with feelings of resentment, too, because I feel like my “mojo” has been messed with. Any words of wisdom? -- BACK TO WORK

DEAR BACK TO WORK: Yes, sister, I’d love to share some words of experiential wisdom -- with emphasis on the word “experiential,” because the advice I share with my readers comes from the depths of my own human experience. This is kitchen table talk.

Let’s start with the blessings that are hiding within the dark folds of your dilemma, because there are always blessings to be found. You write that your “mojo has been messed with.” It has indeed ... but it’s only been messed with. You haven’t lost it altogether. It’s still there, inside of you.

Consider it a blessing that you have become so intimately familiar with the texture of your own tranquility; you know its nooks and crannies. You know what it feels like to have it, which means you also know what it feels like not to have it ... which should tell you that there are steps you can take to get it back.

Here are a few super-simple ideas I can suggest that might help you adjust to being back at work. They’ve certainly worked for me at different points in my own working life:

Close the Curtains: When you arrive at your office in the morning, close the door -- then close your eyes! My own mama used to call this simple act of shutting your eyes “closing the curtains.”

Pull down the shades of your brain for a minute or two and allow yourself the luxury of both a respite and a reset. We often forget that the simple act of seeing, absorbing, and processing everything around us -- optically, anyway -- requires an extraordinary amount of neural and psychic energy. By closing these curtains for a moment -- by creating these purposeful pockets of peace -- we apply a healing balm to our brains; a spiritual salve. Remember that your eyes are your curtains! And these curtains belong to you and you alone! When to open and close them is totally up to you!

Speak Up: I must have missed the memo that said martyrdom is mandatory in the workplace. I’m glad I missed it, too, ‘cause it’s hogwash.

If you’re experiencing emotional discomfort or imbalance in your place of work, speak the heck up. And I don’t mean grousing about it under your breath or whispering about it conspiratorially with your co-workers around the water cooler -- you yourself brought up the “inane water cooler conversations.” That’s not what I’m talking about when I say “speak up.”

When I say “speak up,” I’m talking about creating an intentional opportunity to communicate with your supervisor and/or an HR rep who can hear you personally and professionally, then offer assistance. Employee Assistance Plans are there for a reason: to assist employees. If you work in a smaller office, sit down with your supervisor, one-on-one -- not just with the intention to let off steam (although that’s definitely important), but to engage in an impactful, solution-driven discussion that will bring about positive results.

Business owners, C-suite execs, and front-line managers in even the smallest companies are beginning to understand that happy, well-adjusted employees -- employees who feel like they’re being seen, heard, understood, and valued -- are the same employees who will be engaged and productive in the workplace. It’s important for everyone to work collaboratively.

Above all, don’t suffer in silence. Remember that mental health and martyrdom cannot -- and should not -- co-exist. Speak up.

Your “mojo” lives within you. You write that you don’t feel any sense of tranquility until you return home from work at the end of the day. Be careful with this.

While it’s certainly a fine and wonderful thing that your home showers you with such solace and serenity, keep in mind that inner peace does not necessarily emanate from the four walls of any one space. Tranquility lives within you. Within me. Within all of us. We don’t have to walk through a door to find ourselves in its presence; we don’t need to go anywhere to get to it, necessarily, because it travels with us; it rests within our core. That’s why it’s called “inner peace.”

Don’t misunderstand: It is a blessing indeed to have a special space in your life that brings you peace and serenity. I myself am fortunate to have many such spaces in my own life -- and the reason I have them is because I have chosen to create them.

But when I enter these special spaces, I do so with the awareness that what makes these spaces special isn’t the four walls that hold me, but the tranquility that moves within me while I’m there. The place is important, certainly, but the source of my tranquility is most important of all. In my own life, the source of my tranquility comes from my higher power -- and I am able to receive energy from my higher power wherever I go, no matter which room I’m in!

Again, I congratulate you for having a special space. All of us should have one -- and if we don’t, we should create one! These spaces can be elaborately constructed or, as I like to call them, “spontaneous sanctuaries of peace” -- meaning you create them on the fly. When you’re at work, sometimes spontaneity and imagination are required.

Let me share an example from my own workplace life some time ago: For many years, my “spontaneous sanctuary of peace” happened to be a very, very small powder room in the West Wing of the White House. As a White House staffer, I did what I had to do to make sure my tranquility toolbox was always full (which required a bit of imagination), and this West Wing powder room was as good a place as any other.

Before I’d walk into the Oval Office to brief the President of the United States, I’d always make a prayer pit stop in that powder room, even if it just meant closing my eyes momentarily or even kneeling for a second to ask for the calm and the confidence I needed.

I’ll admit that kneeling in that small space was quite a challenge -- particularly when I was in the latter stages of my second pregnancy, which I was at that time -- but I managed to make it work. And my prayers were always different: Sometimes I’d ask for strength, clarity and grace. Other times I’d simply ask that my water not break all over the beautiful Oval Office carpet. Often, I wouldn’t ask for anything: I’d simply listen to the sound of stillness and grace swirling around me. The simple act of creating these purposeful pockets of peace always filled me with a sense of energy and renewal.

Looking back on it now, the fact that I could transform my workplace into a place of tranquility made my years in the White House some of the happiest, most fulfilling years in my life. I created the tranquility and wore it around my shoulders like a comfortable cloak.

You can create a cloak of comfort too, sister.

Wear your cloak to work every day, with comfort and grace.