It’s Like Nesting (Without Any Eggs)
I have a totally awesome reason for not blogging last week. We moved into a house. Yup, yup, 3.5 years on the road are being tucked into the Awesome Things We’ve Done file and we are literally sprawling out on the floors, and marveling that 1) no one has to step over us to get to something and 2) our hands don’t reach the walls.
It’s the little things, people.
Little things like a a full-size oven (homemade pizza and muffins! at the same time!), a backyard for Bear to sniff his little heart out, a full-size water heater so my showers can last a full five minutes without going cold, and a dishwasher that doesn’t complain that we make too many dishes.
It’s still a small house, only 1300 square feet, but it feels like a freaking palace. Zeb has a bedroom (the only room already filled to the brim, I might add), Justin and I have our own bathroom (now we’ll finally settle the debate of which of these two men pee on the toilet seat first thing in the morning), a living room, an office, and…..wait for it……..
I HAVE MY OWN ROOM.
I’m calling it my Sanctuary. It’s currently barren except for a small pile of books, my journal, a candle, and my favorite essential oils.
But that’s not the point.
The point is I HAVE MY OWN ROOM. And it’s not shared with a smelly man. And it’s not double-timing as an office. And I have plans, people. Plans.
I foresee a big cushy chair, a small bookcase for my soul-cuddling books, a yoga mat, a diffuser of its own, my meditation pillow, and a small area just for art journaling. A sacred space. Not to work, or sleep, or eat. Just to Be. And no electronics will be allowed past the doorframe.
It feels…well, it feels odd. Laying in bed the first night, looking up at the ceiling a full 10 feet above our heads (especially with our mattress – our only piece of furniture so far – on the floor until Justin builds me a platform) felt strange. Like looking up as you’re falling down.
Or like a newborn baby, fresh from the womb. The world suddenly feels so big, and also a little more dangerous without the closeness of our cozy tin box. Being home alone at night freaks me out in the same way it freaked me out when we moved into the RV. New sounds, new neighbors, new shadows. Yes, I’m slightly wigged out by the dark, especially when it’s a whole new dark.
But during the day? Oh man! We have floor to ceiling windows and SO MUCH LIGHT. The floors are “wood” and the dog sounds like a troupe of tiny tap dancers when he follows me around (he’s slightly wigged out too; he stays within 2 feet of us at all times, and preferably in our lap or leaning against our legs). And when we realized the kitchen faucet had a leak, we got to call someone else to take care of it! It’s been a long time since we’ve been tenants, but I could get used to that part.
So yes, we’re here. Fort Walton Beach ,FL. About 5 minutes from where my mom lived when she moved away from home at 19. I also live exactly 1.0 miles from the meditation center I retreated to in September, 1.2 miles from the ocean, and 0.0 miles from MY OWN ROOM.
We’ve signed a lease for a year, the longest we’ve committed to anything in a looooong time. And it doesn’t feel like home, but it’s starting to.
We have no furniture except for the mattresses and TV (the only things not nailed down in an RV), but Justin and I found some wicked weathered red oak lumber on Craigslist and my hunky man is designed a rustic platform bed, an office desk and a kitchen table. We won’t have chairs for the last two just yet, but that’s okay. We’re cool going without until we find what we love.
Oh and yes, we are filling this space so mindfully. No crap. Nothing we don’t drool over. If we don’t love it or have a damn good use for it, it ain’t staying. So yes, I don’t have any other photos, because there’s not to show. Yet.
Oh and I have wifi. My own super fast wifi. Do you know how much I can get done with my own wifi? Seriously, my work week has been cut in half. I kid you not. Plus, I HAVE MY OWN ROOM. But there’s no wifi in there. (Well, technically it’s everywhere, but there’s nothing in MY OWN ROOM that will pick it up, so there.)
Apart from the wonder that is Home, yes it’s brought with it its own brand of Paying Attention. I’m noticing how my energy shifts in this new space, to one of almost nesting. The love and enjoyment I’m experiencing in my own kitchen. And the funny way we still sneak our travels into conversations. Like we have to let everyone know we’re not “just your average neighbors”. Oh, ego. You’re a funny thing.
There has been moments of “WTH are we doing”, interlaced with thoughts of “too good to be true”. And because Life tends to serve up our dreams with a side helping of “This-is-only-going-to-be-funny-later”, our truck decided it needed $6,000 in repairs the very next day, which added a lovely “Was-this-a-bad-idea” vibe to the whole process.
But mostly, even despite the BS that likes to surface, it’s all been really, really, really good. We’re making yummy foodstuff without bumping into each other in the kitchen, and making love without Zeb asking us to give it a break. We’re going for walks around our new neighborhood, and talking school possibilities. And we’re bringing our energy and color into this new space with trust that it’s going to really start becoming ours.
We haven’t given up the RV, or the identity of being nomads just yet. That feels so deeply a part of our files, yet at the same time profoundly different…not like part of the past, but not like our present either. So it’s staying with us. Kinda like a guest quarters. Or our escape route for the next hurricane that blows through town.
But for whatever reason, Life placed us here for awhile, ticking off nearly every box on my Must Have list, and reminding us to just go with it while it works out the rest. Not exactly my default mode, but certainly in alignment with my practice in Trust and spiritual surrender. Plus, it comes with my own room.