Having a home that looks staged rather than tenanted is how I’d like to live, if I’m being honest.
I seem to operate best when my physical home looks like it does in my dreamy mind’s eye.
But in reality, I’m sitting here on this early Monday with all manner of things scattered about my desk. A load of laundry is needing to spin, the children’s rooms look very lived in, and I just spotted a cobweb in the crevice of our ceiling.
Because real, live, beating hearts call these small walls home.
If my table was always cleared, if my walls didn’t have black smudge marks from small bare feet, if there were no crumbs, an empty laundry basket, a vacant sink, sleek blankets laying neatly across mattresses…
It would mean my home was void of pulsing life.
And the thought of this smears all my idealistic frustrations into oblivion.
When people are really able to move, and be, and function at full-go – their dwellings may be in disarray sometimes. Where there is action there is often times some unkempt chaos.
As the civilizers of our abodes, it is certainly the parent’s responsibility to provide a calm, safe, loving, and yes somewhat organized living space – so we trim and declutter and neaten. But we should really fancy the fact that we have to. Our scouring is needed because there are souls drumming here.
And that’s something to celebrate, yes?
Today’s quote comes from a cookbook.
Shauna James Ahern, in Gluten Free Girl Everyday, wakes me up these thoughts…
“Like most people, I dream of a spacious white kitchen with an island made of reclaimed wood, open shelves with matching dishes, and countertops that gleam. But you know what’s wrong with those kitchens? Nobody’s cooking in them. If you cook, you make a mess. You clean it up so you can cook again and make another mess. It’s an endless cycle, one that I’ve learned to complete most days. But I’m willing to admit that there are nights I’m too tired to do the dishes again and leave them for the morning. I’d rather have dirty dishes than give up cooking.”
Yes, indeed.
I’d rather have playful children than a sparkling house.
On cleaning days, I have both. It lasts about 2 hours and I glory in its gift, then I have to let it slip away again.
And I’m continually realizing the joy and grace of this.
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To check out my current posting schedule, click here. Happy Monday to you, friends.
