Meet Megan Cook, whose The Sacred Shoppe is the newest addition to The Auction Barn’s Canberra Antiques Centre
Meet Megan Cook, whose The Sacred Shoppe is the newest addition to The Auction Barn’s Canberra Antiques Centre
Have you visited the ‘new’ Canberra Antiques Centre yet? It’s right here, at The Auction Barn. We have been thrilled to welcome so many new stallholders to our space at 10 Wiluna Street Fyshwick, where we are open 7 days.
One of our newest stallholders is Megan Cook of The Sacred (@thesacred.au), whose curated offering of “handmade magic to honour the energy of home” has manifested in The Sacred Shoppe (Shop #033).
The Sacred Shoppe opened at the Canberra Antiques Centre in March 2024 and in honour of Megan and the spirit of this new addition to our space, we invited Megan to sit down with Ebony from @georgianhousecanberra for a long-form interview discussing Megan’s inspiration behind The Sacred Shoppe, perspectives on the meaning of home as a place of shelter and sanctuary, as well as the important waste-reducing role of buying pre-loved items generally.
Brew yourself a pot of tea and we hope you enjoy this interview. – The Auction Barn
(E): The Sacred Shoppe looks absolutely beautiful, congratulations. It’s so richly layered with the most charming mix of old and new and looks like it has always been there, which is so enchanting to find in a retail context. Have you always been a collector? What inspires you in that regard?
Megan (M): Thank you! Gosh, it has been my practice since childhood, truly. My mother loved vintage and antiques and as I was growing up, she would source beautiful pieces and incorporate those into my bedroom. My room really became her place for introducing treasures that she had found and thought I would enjoy. So I grew up cycling through different beds, dressing tables and little desks and it was wonderful. It made me realise that there was a lot of transformative potential in furnishing a space – totally independent of the architecture of the room or the house.
You can do so much with beautiful things, and I would love moving furniture around my bedroom when I wanted to freshen up the feel. I don’t know how but I managed to summon the strength to move very heavy things as a kid, because changing up my room brought me such joy. And I think it introduced me to the idea, even if subliminally, that I didn’t need new things to feel like I could find joy in my space. This has stayed with me as an adult and has been so protective against the cult of ‘newness’ that has a tendency to ensnare us when we let our guard down.
E: That’s so sweet – what a wonderful thing for your mother to share with you. I had that same instinct as a child. Even rearranging posters on the walls could make the space feel “new” again, which is that same freshness of feeling you’ve just described. This is really intriguing though, if you think about it. I know in Feng Shui there is this notion of ‘chi’ – sort of the ‘breath’ of things, or energy. That’s the only explanation that checks out for me – that there is energy at work. Why else would a room with inanimate objects feel completely different once said objects were rearranged? Is it just our perception of space that creates that, or do you think our spaces carry energy too? What’s your take on that?
M: There’s definitely energy at work, in my view. I’ll give you an example. You know the feeling when you’ve gone into a house and the energy is completely stagnant? Often this coincides with nothing in the home having been moved over a long period of time. Stagnancy in the home is commonplace when nothing is shifted, moved or rearranged. Some houses do feel like the furniture has not moved in decades, or all the knick-knacks are on unchanging display. For me this demonstrates that you can activate the energy in your home, or not – either way, you feel it.
E: It’s funny you should say that because my husband and I often talk about how nice it will be when our new house is finished and we can move in and “be done” with the interiors. It doesn’t really hold true for me though because I love to potter about and rearrange things I’ve displayed for a particular season or switch out a painting with another etc. For example, I love decorating for Christmas, but also enjoy that feeling of closure brought by taking down our decorations on January 6 th . Even the loveliest Christmas display feels like it can stagnate over time, and I’m just itching to take down the tree, at that point. Do you think there’s a way to activate the energy at home without substantially moving things around?
M: Absolutely. Even vacuuming your floor can create a different feel, for better or worse. I love the feeling of cleaning my floors and even if I haven’t changed anything else, the house feels a bit happier for being cared for and tended to, and that feeling is different from the floors merely being clean. If you over-vacuum, though, or over- clean in general, then you’ll notice your space can take on a rather tense, acerbic tone; you can literally clean “to the bone” and the energy will be raw and fragile.
I’ve sometimes visited people with overly perfected, highly sanitised homes and it does make it difficult to feel relaxed or as though one can’t touch things. The tactile quality of a home is important too. You really want to feel relaxed in a home – whether it’s your own home or you’re visiting someone. Ideally you should feel like you’re being held, and your shoulders can drop. That feeling when you walk through your front door after a long day – it’s that.
E: I could not agree more. I often refer to this feeling as being ‘safely gathered in’. There is that ensconcing quality that we all take comfort from.
M: Assuming you’ve not over-cleaned your house, it’s also the difference between someone respecting their space, and keeping it in order - without being overly precious and doing it merely for appearances sake. I think you can sense that kind of compulsive energy too, like people whose kitchens are just for show. Because of this, they avoid cooking in them because that would make a mess.
E: That’s so true. I remember visiting someone in Yarralumla once with a “butler’s pantry”. Everything that would normally be in the kitchen was crammed into that small space, to keep the kitchen immaculately clean. As a consequence, the actual kitchen was never used, and it was a really strange experience to be a guest in someone’s home while they spent most of the time in the butler’s pantry, rather than preparing food in the kitchen, as would be customary. I’m noticing this kind of behaviour is increasingly prevalent and am disturbed by the implications of these ‘show homes’. It’s very “welcome to the morgue, children”.
Obviously that’s a pretty specific example but we can all ‘feel’ when a house is lived in. And that feeling of ‘living in’ requires motion, it’s not static. It can occur through rearrangement or cleaning, as you say – but in any case, requires movement. And mess, from time to time! Because that’s real life.
What’s your take on people wanting to improve the look and feel of their homes, but who might avoid doing so because they think it requires an investment? Obviously this depends on what a person’s goals are, but I am such a fan of “shopping the house” and think most homes can be significantly beautified by rearranging existing possessions. Decorating isn’t synonymous with consumption, in my view.
M: You absolutely do not need to buy new pieces to refresh your atmosphere. It’s the same with “shopping your wardrobe”. I’m always amazed by how differently I feel about my clothing when every season I bring everything out and basically see every piece clearly again. It gives me a new perspective on what I have and how I can style things for a new season, without having to purchase anything new. This can be a really joyful and inspiring process and I take the opportunity to reconnect with my possessions and ensure anything that needs mending etc. is attended to so I can enjoy it for another season.
It’s definitely the same with houses. Just taking “special occasion” pieces out of cupboards and thoughtfully contemplating how you might incorporate them into your décor can be so impactful. I think everyone could benefit from asking themselves ‘why am I not using my grandmother’s candlesticks?’ or whatever precious items you may have that are just being kept in reserve. I think we all have a lot more to enjoy in our homes than we probably think.
E: I’ve been reading a lot about homemaking lately as I think it’s something that unites us all. Wherever one lives, there is a healthy instinct to make it into a home, whether that’s a bedroom in a share house, a university dorm, apartment or country house. In that sense, it’s a shared experience. I can understand that with the time pressures people experience, day-to-day living can feel like a grind, and we sometimes feel guilty about not taking care of our homes as we’d like. What suggestions do you have for fostering a sense of connection to our homes and homemaking practices, even when we’re busy or stressed?
M: I’ve experienced seasons like this, where home feels like another chore on a long list of other priorities. I have come to realise that our homes benefit from our kind- hearted acceptance of them. Basically I’d advise us all to treat our homes as we would another member of the family. I like to acknowledge the protection my home gives me and greet it when I’m coming and going. I wouldn’t ignore someone who lives in my house, so why would I ignore my house? In the same way I wouldn’t be down on a member of my family for not meeting certain expectations, so I try to show my appreciation for my home however it shows up for me in each season of life.
Another way of expressing that might be to say our homes are sentient beings. I truly believe the home can feel your love of it and it hugs you back. You can ‘feel’ a house that is well loved by its occupants, even as a visitor.
E: I agree with you, this feeling is really tangible. When we were looking to buy a house, shortly before we got married, I strongly perceived feelings of love and care in homes, completely independently of their physical condition. Even quite a daggy and run down home can feel delightfully warm and charming, when it has been loved. We ended up buying a house like this – it had nothing to commend to it architecturally and the structural bones weren’t sound, but one could feel it was a beloved family home for decades upon decades, and that made all the difference, even though it was completely unstylish.
M: It’s interesting you mention this because it’s something I’ve noticed too. In the consumer world we are so conditioned to believe that what’s beautiful is new and has a certain ‘look’ about it. And we have those shiny new things, that projects a kind of success. But energy counts for so much, and it’s often the older, imperfect things that ‘feel’ the best because there is a depth to them.
I do think, as a society, we have lost the joy in imperfection and ability to mend things that are broken. Even a small, chipped plate can be repurposed as a dish for jewellery or displayed on the wall, for example. Along similar lines, when I make something available for sale, a beautiful brass candelabra, for example, I won’t polish it back to a gleaming finish, instead preferring to retain the old candlewax that has collected on it. This helps not to erase the energy and ensures that people are connecting with the true nature of the piece.
E: I really enjoy living with older, imperfect pieces for the same reasons you describe and would go as far to say that we never buy anything new, outside day-to-day household consumables.
M: Exactly. I don’t buy anything new either, except in the most limited practical circumstances. My cutlery drawer divider is new, for example! But I find that most other things, whether necessary or discretionary, can be acquired second hand, and they’re all the better for it.
E: One of the benefits we’ve found buying preloved pieces is that they are consistently more affordable while being of much higher quality. It’s an odd paradox. In addition to the money one can save by purchasing preloved, I think it absolves a household of the need to ensure anything is on trend or matching. It’s the lovely mix of furniture and décor, collected over a lifetime, that then sort of blends into this harmonious reflection of who one is. The energy is different. We have such a soulful interior but everything is second hand and people are always surprised by how little we’ve spent to achieve that, especially when one takes into account the incredible quality of many handcrafted antique or vintage items.
M: I agree. I feel like going to IKEA is a right of passage in a sense, because when you’re young you might want to furnish your place as quickly as possible. But when you place your hand on a laminated cabinet, it gives you a completely different feeling than if you’d touched a handcrafted cabinet made of timber. Natural materials contribute to the energy of your home in a really positive way, while synthetic materials have a way of feeling ‘dead’ or stagnant. I think we all sense, on a spiritual level, that such pieces are never truly capable of returning to the earth, either.
E: What is it about synthetic, mass produced items that renders them devoid of energy?
M: It’s not just the materials but the origin story a piece has which shifts the needle on its energetic resonance. Something synthetic is typically mass produced in a large factory, and it’s highly unlikely it was manufactured locally, so you have the added dimension of that piece having to journey under industrial conditions to get to you. And because mass production results in high quantities of the same item, you don’t ever perceive that quality of specialness you find in pieces that were handcrafted or are otherwise one of a kind.
We tend not to value those high-volume, lower price point items and certainly won’t pass them down as heirlooms; they end up in landfill, because they are absent of a genuinely human connection and human history. I am always noticing IKEA pieces on the curb, which I’m guessing is because no one really falls in love with them, or they are not enduring.
E: It comes back to energy, doesn’t it? We rarely buy anything new and love to source pieces at auction and local antiques stores. But I’ve noticed something that I’m reluctant to admit - sometimes even the most exquisite antique piece of delightful provenance can feel ‘off’. Have you experienced this?
M: Yes, I’ve fielded questions from people who ask, especially if you are receptive to energy, whether I’m worried about ghosts or malignant spirits. While it’s something I consider, it’s not so much an issue for myself personally, as I know how to bless and cleanse any items coming into my home to ensure the energy is supportive. In the Shoppe I stock an effective product which is an Energetic Clearing Mist which is great to spray into each room of the home. I also create (and soon to stock in the Shoppe) handmade smoke cleansing bundles crafted from local chemical free rosemary and lavender. This is my go-to for cleansing the energy of second-hand items. Rosemary is a powerful cleanser for your home and aura. Lavender aids in psychic protection, cleansing, purification, and peace.
People should trust their own intuition though, because you can sense if an item isn’t right for you, or perhaps it doesn’t connect with your space. I’ve had antique pieces which I am pretty sure felt “annoyed” to be placed in certain locations, and I could feel that they weren’t happy. I once tried on a stunning antique ring that felt so uncomfortable on my hand, as if it was screaming “this is NOT meant for you!” Sometimes you need to respect when something is not for you, even if it’s beautiful and you think you “should” keep it. I truly believe that we work in harmony with the items we bring into our life.
Whenever I place an item in the Shoppe I always set the intention that it finds its way to the right person in a loving new home. May both be appreciated in mutual care and respect. I think customers can feel this intention when they browse or purchase from The Sacred Shoppe.
E: I recently purchased a mirror under less than stellar customer service circumstances and it has annoyed me ever since, so I know exactly what you mean. It wasn’t the mirror’s fault – it’s not like it’s a portal of gloom - but I cannot abide snobbery, and so now every time I look at the mirror, I am reminded of how conceited the person who sold it to me was. This interaction has totally ruined the mirror for me. I think it has to go or I need to shift the energy around it!
M: This just proves, though, that the energy is real and the objects in our homes communicate with us, even if that’s just reflecting back to us our feelings about a certain item. I am reminded of a time I assisted a dear friend clean and cleanse her lounge room. She had a large lamp in the corner that was gifted by a friend she had fallen out with. Even though the lamp was perfectly lovely, the constant association of her friend was creating the most unpleasant energy in her space. As soon as we removed the lamp to donate, the room immediately felt lighter and brighter. This is the power of the energy of objects and our associations to them.
This is also why craftsmanship has value, because you can feel that a piece came about as a result of human endeavour. Or why it’s so wonderful to buy things from people who you can put a name and a face to, rather than in a big box store where you cannot discern the maker. One of the things I’ve enjoyed following your house build is that I’ve got to know, through your posts, so many of the people bringing your home to life.
E: I’ve found this really moving too, getting to know the craftspeople who are working on something as personal as our family home. It’s been such a collective effort and a special experience to see so many talented people working together to realise our vision, which is very specific to us – it’s not a fashionable house, and would not be everyone’s cup of tea.
M: I think the ‘best’ homes, and that’ s not a measure of material worth, reflect their owners. When you have a sense of self and are clear on your values, it doesn’t matter what your style is, this is bound to reflect in how you live, and that’s what gives a home spirit. I feel you can really tell when people have made choices solely based on what’s fashionable or on trend, and the home can feel it too. Our homes thrive (and so do we), when we personally connect to them. You can always feel when someone was not a participant in the process of creating their home.
E: You gave an example in a previous conversation about an episode of Buying Beverly Hills where interiors are obscenely expensive and yet a prospective buyer was walking through one house and emphatically declared everything looked dated by about five years. That made me laugh because it’s so true. I feel like the 2020s will be characterised by ‘pavilions’, ‘kit kat’ tiles, fluted stone (travertine!) and limewashed arches. But it’s this mass adoption of certain styles that renders them almost immediately obsolete, especially when they are not classically stylish in the first place, and therefor prone to ‘aging out’.
M: In society today, we are constantly bombarded with advertising and trends, that I feel like if your relationship to your own personal style isn’t rooted in a solid foundation, it can become so easy to get swept away with latest ‘must have’ items. But the thing with trends is that it’s always unattainable, because by the time we purchase the latest trend, or finish renovating a home in said trend, the cycle has moved to the next.
This results in a pattern of acquisition that feels kind of ‘flat’. For example, you could have the most amazing house but if you furnished it exclusively at Coco Republic, it would not tell me a single thing about you. I adore walking through the door of someone’s home and I can ‘feel’ the occupant’s intention and joy through the design choices they’ve made. You know the energy is good when you’re sitting in someone’s home that is absolutely not your style, but it still feels like a warm embrace.
E: Yes, I think we all know people who have furnished their homes in one fell swoop by visiting a single store. I cannot imagine how it’s affordable to do it that way, but then I’m a lifelong collector and very intentional about the pieces I’ve acquired, the function they serve, and what they represent. I also think modern interiors are visually minimalist without necessarily being minimal, if that makes sense?
M: I’ve been trying to work through my thinking about this too. Contemporary interiors do seem to be really pared back but with abundant storage behind the scenes. There’s always a walk-in-robe, somehow! It’s just that nothing is left out on display. The difference is, and I think we’re both similar in our approach here, is that we enjoy shopping for antique and vintage pieces, which may be ornamental or maximalist in design, but that we don’t have a high volume of items in our homes. In that sense, everything is out and there are fewer things to put away. But there is ultimately not that much stuff.
E: I’d characterise this as simple living, in a sense. Minimalism is a practice I value – keeping fewer, better things. But it’s not an ‘aesthetic’. We have very few possessions – but everything is fit for purpose or completely delightful. We don’t hold onto things we don’t love and not having much means our home is never cluttered and pretty easy to clean. It’s a really restful way to live, because there is less inventory to manage.
M: I love that notion of fewer, better things. And it’s true that the human brain cannot really process too much visual clutter; it manifests as a stress response. Clutter generally results in energy of ‘irk’ and people can feel that. But there’s a difference between clutter and intentional vignettes in a home. I feel like we’ve come full circle back to how we can energise our spaces, and how movement is integral to that. Stagnating clutter, when disorderly and unused, is negative. But a seasonal display on a sideboard, when arranged with intention, feels completely different.
E: One of the things I love about The Sacred Shoppe is how inspired I am after visiting to create beautiful arrangements at home, even if that’s just a posy of green leaves next to a fresh candlestick. You’ve arranged your space so beautifully and it lends such a tangible atmosphere. What’s your intention for how the space makes people feel?
M: My hope is that people will feel inspired to bless their homes however they can, and to realise that one doesn’t need consume anything to do so. Especially in the spiritual space, I feel like consumerism is really distorting what the essence of things is. Ultimately, you can implement daily rituals to beautify your home and feel grounded and calm, and it doesn’t involve shopping online. You can’t buy a connection with Spirit – it comes from within.
I really hope the selection of items I’ve curated represent the potential for what can be achieved at home, with pieces someone might already have. Perhaps you’d like to enhance that with some delicious organic tea, a hand-dipped candle, fresh incense or second-hand book on a subject of intrigue – but ultimately, you don’t have to buy anything to foster your connection to the magic of your home.
E: This is a really moving perspective and I admire the thoughtfully curated mix of old and new wares you have made available. I also respect the quality of the new products you have decided to sell. Sometimes if I’ve visited a boutique I’ve noticed that the overall visual impression is really gorgeous, but when you narrow down to the individual items they are of low quality or questionable origin.
M: That’s right, and because The Sacred Shoppe is an extension of my work at The Sacred, everything on offer reflects my own standards for self-care. For example, I like to stock products handmade by people I know. Non-toxic items are very important to me and so that’s another area where values need to be aligned. The incredible tea I stock is all organic and made by The Cottage Herbalist. It would be incongruous for me to stock anything I wouldn’t consume personally, nor love to have in my home. The Shoppe is really a reflection of what I’ve been craving to be able to visit in Canberra. A sacred little space where everyone can reflect upon the importance of home and the small changes we can make to our environments to really beautify our daily lives.
E: I think you’ll find this resonates deeply with others, because our homes are such important places of sanctuary and I frankly cannot ever recall meeting someone who simply doesn’t care about how they live.
M: How true. Your home is your altar, in a manner of speaking. It should nourish you, facilitate rest and reflect the good things in your life. I truly believe that whatever is available to you, you have the opportunity to make beauty from.