After so many weeks of emotional self dissection, it was beautiful to be able to walk out my front door this morning feeling whole again. I didn’t wait for my morning coffee, I didn’t want to waste time groggily coming back to life. I wanted to put on my boots, step out my front door, step on the front stoop and breathe….
I feel I was about to disappoint this house. I truly did. I felt like I was slowly neglecting her for selfish reasons. You can sense that this house cares for me, and my depression had me turning my back on her. A house in this condition can look one of two ways when you look at her. She either looks on her way to dilapidation and ruin, or looks like she’s coming back from a dark patch, ready to claim glory in the sun. I guess from my perspective, she always looks a bit like I feel.
Lately, she was looking dark and grey, her charm hidden behind a dull mist of sadness.
So, I was anxious to go out side, breathe the morning air, and take a good look at her. Happily, she looked like she was on the mend. A timid smile reminded that she had work to do, but she was already feeling better. Her strength was coming back, she felt love again, she felt like she was ready to revive after a few long weeks of retreat.
Stepping back up to Honeychurch, I had no greater desire than to step on the stoop, and rest in her hands as I peeked round at the blessing that I have been given.
A house like this needs a lot of work. I am looking forward to the process, feeling that working on this house in many ways like working on my soul. So, your donations always come in handy when it comes to Honeychurch. We always truly appreciate it because with everything else aside, we get closer to getting all those little things a house like this needs. Like a rake, a shovel, paint, replacement tiles for the cracked ones in the kitchen, plaster for the ceiling. Hell, a ceiling fan! All sorts of things like that.
And I’m truly looking forward to painting the inside, especially my little office. I want to paint one wall with very light cherry blossom stems throughout.
We want to decorate, too. 🙂 Make curtains, get a couch, a television! When you walk through the front door, I want you to feel like my living room was intended for gathering and loafing. At the moment it looks like a spot where two squatters watch movies on a laptop from across the room. All of that will come in time, but for now, I want to use what tools I have to do little things that bring her closer back little by little.
I’m even going to give some macramé a try, just to give Honeychurch more of her original vintage feel, scattering hints of each decade she has been through and survived.
And of course, I want to do all of it myself, spending joyous hours alone in silence tending to Honeychurch, and in turn, healing myself more. This is going to be my therapy, I think. The weather is getting so much better, cooler, kinder, so I’m grateful that I can begin soon. I am finishing up commissioned work, so I won’t be able to do any knitting any time soon, that’s why your donations are always so cherished. I’ve already been able to rack up a few bonus points on my Ace Hardware customer rewards card. They send you huge coupons on your birthday. And I can’t wait to write about what I experience, what I learn about Honeychurch and myself.
Thank you again for helping me get to a better place emotionally these last few weeks. A clarity was missing, a simple clarity that I wouldn’t have been able to see because I’m so wrapped up with a desire for complexities. But, so many of you turned me on to Louise Hay….and that made all the difference in the world. And I thank you so much for that.
If you appreciate my work and would like for this blog to continue, please donate. I wouldn’t have the courage to do write without your support.