There was a time when I would have been extremely bored waking up in the morning and knowing every single thing that would happen to me that day. Now, that is what I hope for. I love knowing every nook and cranny of my home. I love doing the same thing at the same time, I relish the familiarity of it all. I don’t have to think too much about what will crop up, there is no anxiety about not knowing, and the day rolls along with one thing following the other and minute by minute the hours become another day. A day spent at home.
The strangest part of this kind of familiarity is that it feels fresh every single day. I rise, shower, write, eat breakfast, bake bread, work in the garden, sew or knit, care for the animals and do my general chores every day, and each time it feels new and that this day is one of a kind. It never gets boring; it gets better.
One reason I have grown so comfortable with this kind of life is that my home is like my work of art. I hope it will become my masterpiece. I believe that I have done the best work of my life at home. I might not have been paid for it, but it paid off in many ways money never could have. Hanno and I have created a shelter here for ourselves, our family and friends. We have a home that is more than a place to sleep and store our possessions, it nourishes us, in both body and soul.
We have turned our very ordinary brick house on a one acre block into a home that we thrive in. It is our own mini world. We have organic vegetables growing in the backyard. There are fish swimming in aquaponics tanks. Rainwater has been harvested from the roof tops and on that same roof, the sun is heating our water. Fruit is growing to juicy maturity; plump chooks are laying eggs every day and soon they will hatch baby chickens. Thousands of worms devour our organic waste and they in turn sometimes become food for fish and fowl. A creek flows by providing the water for a rainforest that gives us protection from the wind, and within the confines of that rainforest embrace, regeneration and life goes on.
Inside bread is baked, sauces made, jams processed and stored. Gifts are made for friends far away, the house is cleaned, soap is hardening, books are read, ginger beer is brewing and afternoon naps are sometimes taken on the verandah. Dinner is made from backyard produce and what is stored in the stockpile cupboard and pantry. Slowly, and with only the sounds of our home, each day is pieced together.
If you haven’t yet discovered the true beauty and comfort of your own home, there is buried treasure waiting for you. All it will take is for you to decide what it is you want your home to be, and then work towards that. It won’t happen overnight – this is slow process and, like housework, it will never end, but making a real home is another one of those valuable things that will serve you as much in the journey as in the destination.
Melissa at Elements in Time wrote about Finding Home yesterday and it is a similar idea to this. It is well worth a read.
The strangest part of this kind of familiarity is that it feels fresh every single day. I rise, shower, write, eat breakfast, bake bread, work in the garden, sew or knit, care for the animals and do my general chores every day, and each time it feels new and that this day is one of a kind. It never gets boring; it gets better.
One reason I have grown so comfortable with this kind of life is that my home is like my work of art. I hope it will become my masterpiece. I believe that I have done the best work of my life at home. I might not have been paid for it, but it paid off in many ways money never could have. Hanno and I have created a shelter here for ourselves, our family and friends. We have a home that is more than a place to sleep and store our possessions, it nourishes us, in both body and soul.
We have turned our very ordinary brick house on a one acre block into a home that we thrive in. It is our own mini world. We have organic vegetables growing in the backyard. There are fish swimming in aquaponics tanks. Rainwater has been harvested from the roof tops and on that same roof, the sun is heating our water. Fruit is growing to juicy maturity; plump chooks are laying eggs every day and soon they will hatch baby chickens. Thousands of worms devour our organic waste and they in turn sometimes become food for fish and fowl. A creek flows by providing the water for a rainforest that gives us protection from the wind, and within the confines of that rainforest embrace, regeneration and life goes on.
Inside bread is baked, sauces made, jams processed and stored. Gifts are made for friends far away, the house is cleaned, soap is hardening, books are read, ginger beer is brewing and afternoon naps are sometimes taken on the verandah. Dinner is made from backyard produce and what is stored in the stockpile cupboard and pantry. Slowly, and with only the sounds of our home, each day is pieced together.
If you haven’t yet discovered the true beauty and comfort of your own home, there is buried treasure waiting for you. All it will take is for you to decide what it is you want your home to be, and then work towards that. It won’t happen overnight – this is slow process and, like housework, it will never end, but making a real home is another one of those valuable things that will serve you as much in the journey as in the destination.
Melissa at Elements in Time wrote about Finding Home yesterday and it is a similar idea to this. It is well worth a read.
