As most of my friends and family know, I recently bought a house.
In fact, it was exactly one month ago that I spent the first full night in a home that I own. I’m not counting the night before…because if you get in at 2am, that’s not so much a full night as a full morning, wouldn’t you agree?
Anyway, over the next week I got all my boxes moved in, and I turned in the keys to my rental house.
One might wonder, of course, what I’ve been doing over the past month since I moved.
Painting, cleaning, unpacking, decorating, installing, adjusting. Lots of verbs, basically.
And what do I have to show for it? A set of photos that seems to progress backwards. You’ll see what I mean in a minute.
When I first moved in, it was just new paint, furniture, and kitchen stuff…all the boxes were still at the rental house. I took some “before” photos of the inside AFTER I moved the furniture in, because I couldn’t handle the photos pre-paint job.
Nice, right? I thought so. And I could juuuust picture once I had all of my art on the walls, and my books set up, how beautiful it would be. And I decided to make that area near the fireplace into the craft area instead of having it in my bedroom like before, and…well…so far it isn’t shaping up the way I hoped. Because every time that I finish unpacking one box, I feel like two more take their place.
It’s like trying to get rid of a Hydra by chopping off its head, basically. One step forward, two steps back. So, friends, I have these “after” pictures that I hope to have looking MUCH better in the next couple of weeks before I get my very first visitor.
For now, just….forgive me.
Could my house BE any messier? Probably not. But I don’t so much care. I still love it.
You see, this could stress me out. Or, instead, I could remind myself that I love clutter, which makes it less urgent for me to put it all away. I could also remind myself that if I got the house just the way I wanted it right now, I’d get bored pretty fast. But usually, I don’t need those reminders.
Why? Because if I’ve done one thing in this month, it was making this place my home.
It may not look perfect, and I may not have my art on the walls yet, but the physical part is getting there. Mentally, emotionally, I’ve arrived. This is my home.
I focused this first month on spending time in the house. I read, I took baths, I did laundry, I napped with the dogs, I walked the dogs around the neighborhood. I sat on the patio. I lounged while watching TV.
I unpacked Oatmeal and gave him a tour of the new digs.
Basically, I just lived in the house. And I already feel like it’s my home, after just 4 weeks.
That’s not normal for me. I usually need more adjustment time than this. But even my “autopilot” on the way home from work has corrected itself. I no longer miss my turn, because I know where home is.
It’s right here.