5-minutes before I have to leave
cream walls over white walls, and other creative expectations
Crawling on my hands and knees, I do my best to make sure I don’t create a dent in the pillowing, mint-green branches of our evergreen tree, needles pricking the palm of my hands.
Once gathered, I tuck them under the twinkly white lights that wrap around the crooked wooden banister of our front porch. Smiling to myself, I slip the sap-covered scissors into my cherry red apron pocket, and take a few steps back to admire the glow from the candles on the inside windowsill; warmth and movement and life coming from the inside world, does more than soften my anxious thoughts.
Curating my home-space, and any other space for that matter, is something I can become completely consumed by. I start by asking myself how I want to feel? What I want a space to draw out of me? And while it’s not often that I have a new, big piece to center a project around, something as small as a candle, pillow, or tile “borrowed” from my mom’s collection, will do the trick.
Strangely enough, the most common time for me to feel inspired to move things around, is roughly 5-minutes before I have to be somewhere. Though wildly inconvenient, I often will steal a few of those moments to nudge things around, with the promise of tending to it as soon as I’m home again.
I’ll always take light cream walls over white, with warm, soft, rich colors used as accents, personal items carefully placed on shelfs and windowsills, methodically stacked books on bookshelves, candles that show signs of use, and the occasional gallery wall (just as long as they’re all placed at eye level).
Getting rid of things that no longer have a use, or that no longer bring you joy, can be extremely beneficial. This is especially true if there’s something new you’re wanting to bring in, like a couch or chair or bed frame—creating that physical space can leave you feeling re-inspired by the items already in your own home. Then, of course, there are the pieces that have been with you for years. The things that you want to hold and relate to, because for some inexplicable reason, they are part of what makes you, you.
And depending on the day, or what kind of emotion I find myself relating to most, I can make the necessary adjustments: an opportunity for my anxious thoughts to be nudged out by something else—something I can pour all of my attention into, whether relating to it as a creative act or not.
We, as humans, are often contradicting ourselves: the person that feels so confident when designing her own space, is the same person that has a tendency to care too much of what others think of her other creative pursuits. But, even as I type this, I’m realizing that that those who visit my home, are not there to critique or judge or tell me I should be doing something differently. While my creative pursuits, as joyful as they can be, will always carry an expectation: when I design my home, it’s done for myself and myself alone, but when I create outside of my safe places, I have a tendency to overthink. To worry. To convince myself that it’s just not that good.
However, the same me that crawls under the evergreen tree to collect branches for her home just because it brings her joy, is the same me that wants to share and be seen and loved and connected with others.
I still think it’s worth every effort to keep creating and making and doing the things that are heavy with expectation, as well as time spent shuffling chairs and cushions and candles around my living room. Both are rewarding. Both are necessary for our well-being, filling us up in different ways and for very different reasons.
When used as a lifeline, enjoyment and pleasure can encourage us to move from this moment to the next. And when getting through the day unscathed is already too much to ask, I remind myself that our attention is likely to be tugged to whatever is right in front of us, ultimately, leaving us with very little control over what happens next.
Long stretches of time have gone by where, out of necessity, stability is my main priority. Where instead of feeding my creative drive, I tuck that energy away and turn my full attention to the medication I mustn’t forget to take, books stacked high on my bedside table, work I am scheduled to show up for, and the eight hours of sleep that serves as the glue to it all.
It’s safe to say that there’s no one-track way to take care of ourselves, and I certainly don’t think that the ways in which we choose to show ourselves kindness, have to be extravagant in order to make a lasting impact. In fact, I think that the smaller they are, the more potential they have to change the trajectory of whatever moment you find yourself in….
An invitation to think a little differently, and to do something you might have otherwise not made time for. Or to try, anyway. And on the days that trying is too much, and the most I can do is the thing right in front of me, I would like to be ok with that too.
I’m really so grateful to have you here.
Thank you, thank you.
With love,
Chloe
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