Thursday, December 10, 2015

Messy, Happy Home

I like getting older for so many reasons. I think probably one of my favorites is slowly but surely accepting myself just as I am. I accept that sometimes I am so on top of things that it is intimidating. Sometimes I am a flighty, sparkly butterfly. I accept that in many yoga poses my belly hangs down a bit and I don't even try to suck it in unless the pose calls for it. I also accept that my house will never be described as exceptionally well maintained or immaculately kept. If it is ever sold it will be more like as is and how the hell did this much glitter get so well ground into hardwood floors.

I grew up with the idea that an extremely clean home was the only option. My parents worked hard to maintain all they had. The house was always clean. The lawn was never too long. Any home repairs were taken care of immediately. You know what? That is great....for them. For me, not so much.

Our home is not foul. You will not be sickened by the smell of rotting food in the sink. It isn't going to be condemned any time soon. It is good enough and I am really pleased with that.

This home houses creative artists, people enthusiastically and passionately committed to learning and exploring one idea or another. There are piles of books here and there, at times toppling over. There are musically instruments littering the rooms. Art supplies, and yes that herpes of the craft world glitter, are never in short supply. Projects and intricate creations of blocks, Legos, and papier mache hold space on surfaces for days. And we like it like that.

There may be a bit of flour on the floor from working with lasers. I have a pack of rescue animals spreading hair, slobber, and simple love where ever they go. One old wreck of a dog was given a safe place to die about a year ago. He liked it so much he decided to rally and live on. He smells but we adore him.

Yes, my front porch began to crumble a little while back. Eventually, we will fix it...probably. But there have been books to read, ideas to pursue, gardens to design and plant, dances to be danced until we fall into fits of laughter. Bottom line, we have had things we deemed more important to do. Again, we like it that way.

In a way, I am grateful for my occasional bouts with anxiety. Why? Oh, because my anxiety is the one thing that spurs me on to deep clean. Anxiety is the only reason windows are wash or baseboards are scrubbed. So I am happy to know that everything has its place in my life including those not so fun circling dances with the specter of anxiety.

We love our home. It is ours. It is filled with things we treasure. Doubt anyone else would but honestly, we don't care. It is filled with laughter, intelligence, discussion, and a lot of love and joy.

If I invite you into my home, I don't care if I impress you. Nope, in fact I invite very few people into my home because it is so incredibly intimate and personal to me. If I invite you into my home then know I have invited you into a part of my soul. I don't open up easily to anyone. This is my way of sharing.

Now if you need to keep a perfect home, then great for you. You have to find your way and what works for you. Although, I will admit I am always thrilled when someone invites me to experience their not ready for company home. That invitation tells me they are sharing the truly authentic part of themselves with me. That experience simply fills me with happiness because I am not really interested in shallow. I want to know you, the real you. I want to talk of real things,important things. What ever they may be. When it is time. And when it is time, I will show the real me in all my messy, authentic, whimsical, sometimes a bit scary glory.

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