Rebuilding
Everything Is True
Ada Hoffmann's author newsletter
Lately I feel like I have come to a turning point with the house emotionally. Most of the “cleaning out the junk” phase is done (though not all; there is still the dreaded crawl space under the stairs, and the garage from which who knows if my ex will ever actually pick up his stuff or not, and a few other little crannies).
My mental health is VASTLY better living with less junk and less clutter, I will say that.
But in place of the junk, especially downstairs, there is an emptiness.
I know what I need to do in order to convert the emptiness to something I enjoy, but the steps are all so expensive and so daunting. It’s going to take years.
Upstairs, there is a subtler problem. I have workable areas that I can comfortably live in, there are things I like about them, but they’re cobbled together out of things that were left behind. They have yet to feel like areas I really put thought into, designed with intention. They don’t have a soul. They don’t have a vibe.
I’ve been thinking in terms of connecting with the house as a living thing, trying to learn how to care for and respect it. But I’m increasingly thinking that on some level one of my responsibilities is to bring it to life. To make it live.
It's not enough to remove what I don't like from the house - I have to think of what I want to build up in its place.
(The house is, obviously, a metaphor for me.)
In the meantime, here is a little peek at my tidy-and-useful-but-haphazardly-cobbled-together office, along with my trusty office assistant who reminds me when I’ve been typing at the computer too long.
