I’ve never felt this way about a house before. Comfort. Nest. Nourish. Place. Those words come to mind.
There are doves in the back yard. Last night after dinner, the kid looked out the window at the slanting sunlight and cried, “It’s the magic hour!” In seconds, she’d pulled on her coat. I could watch her running across the grass from my kitchen window. Finally.
This morning, I cried. In a blink, over the growling of the coffee grinder, I went from sleep-bleary to weeping. Everything felt like a mess. Boxes. Dirty dishes in the beautiful, new sink. I have no idea where my saucepans are.
Those old, mean words, my harsh companions: always, never, why, won’t.
So I took a walk through the rooms and looked around. The key to this phase, I think, is making breathing space in small corners. Then let the breathing space grow. Give it time. Box by box. Switch plate by washer hookup by shelf bracket.
Some other words:
will, can, great, fresh, discover, joy
Absolutely! The positive word palette is essential. Thanks for each of those.
It’s the breathing that does it. So keep doing it, Drawing in all that accomplishment, then big, deep sighs, which are letting go. So sigh.
What follows are smiles, and a heart that grows into the smiles, and is healed.
Big time, this, a nexus of changes….so let it all in, let it all out.
Simply, hugs. It is so very clear to me that you are courageously doing what is RIGHT for YOU. I love that and am so inspired. Thank you.