Plans for new house gutting and rebuilding are once again underway following an extended breather! I’m excited, intimidated, then excited again. (I’m trying to stop the thought with excited and keep it there since it’s easy to be overwhelmed! Very, very easy!) We have a gigantic task before us, an enormous amount of work to be done, but the end product promises to be delightful, unique and perfectly suited to our little family. It seems appropriate, somehow, to mark the occasion with a jotting I wrote last year right after we started working on the house.
I’m sitting at the top of the stairs, surrounded by broken bits of past and pregnant plans of future. This is our future home. It is undoubtedly a fixer-upper, and we’re adding even more to the pot with our decision to gut, re-wire, re-plumb, rearrange, and rebuild it on our own.
I’d never seen the inside of a wall before, but that all changed this week. I’ve been bagging broken plaster and insulation for the past couple hours and now my nose, cheeks, forehead, and nostrils are caked with sticky gray dust. Even the safety goggles, leaving deep, painful red creases around my eyes, weren’t barrier enough; dust managed to sneak in on a quest to coat my eyelashes.
I’ve never experienced this before—literally building and shaping a house and transforming it into a home. Our home. My homes (and I’ve had many over the years!) have always carried a transitory air. I’ve loved each one, to a degree, but mostly I’ve been a bit indifferent toward the actual buildings. The space itself didn’t matter much to me. It was the people who filled the rooms who made the places home. I still can’t deny the beauty of that simple, elegant truth, but I wonder now if it could be more.
The rooms in this house speak to me. The nooks and crannies hold choices, chances, time, and strength. In this place, memories will have a beautiful settling place, room to rest, to roost, to nest, and to hatch. Futures will be drawn, penned, and mended. Peace will settle here. Clarity of mind, heart, and soul will appear out of the mist. Truth will be pursued. Health of body, mind, and soul will be sought. Simple beauty will be highlighted. People will be welcomed. Our love will be secured in the walls like the nails we pound and tuck into the reconstructed floor plans. Our love will grow.
(Originally posted on my old blog, Interim Arts, on July 14, 2013)