Life’s been a whirlwind since I can remember. But April has this way of bringing me back to reality with sunshine and dates on calendars that feel big.
I’ve avoided this space (my basement… my thoughts…) for a long time because of construction… more recently because it feels “incomplete.” But if we’re all honest with ourselves… what is “complete” around us? If it’s not one house project it’s another. And the yard. And the dishes. And the work stuff. And the health / well being appointments if you’re responsible enough… what I’m getting at is… I’ve not sat in my favorite chair, in my home, even though I could have, for months.
I should also mention I unpacked moving boxes last weekend and I’ve been here for almost 2 years now. For those of you who don’t know me well, might not know I’ve moved every year for the last 9 years. Some times twice in a year. And before that I lived in countless places as a child. There’s even been times where I thought I’d live somewhere and days before I moved, it fell through. So feeling like I get to “stay” isn’t really my thing. I haven’t hung any pictures. Haven’t painted. Probably because I’m not in full belief this is my home, home.
But tonight. I wasn’t feeling the best and my upstairs is hotter than the devils toenails (because I love having my windows open & wont turn the A/C on just like I won’t turn on the heat. Sorry… it’s my house.) I thought to come down here. And deal with my thoughts and this sacred space. Incomplete and all. And would you believe it if I said I got emotional!? Over a chair and cool air and drywall and furniture given to me by people I love.
It’s incomplete. All of it. Even me. But that’s honestly pretty cool. To be molded, painted new colors, and given the ability to dream and imagine what’s to come.
Take this as an open invitation to come sit, laugh, cry, play, rest, live and be loved. In the place I can say is my home, home.
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