The rooms in my apartment have been shifting. Rather than just adding to things, I’ve been in the stage of moving and adding, taking away, organizing, re-organizing etc. The living room is no exception. With the addition of a new couch, by my friends at Article, the room became comfier. It looks larger. It feels larger. There is very little fighting about who’s spot is what spot. I’ve pulled myself out of a few almost-sleeps there. It is quiet and a little noisy, too. A home in the crazy of the city. It is invaluable.
A few weeks ago, I also added a few photographs to the fireplace mantle, hung another across the wall under the kids’ desk. It took a neighbor, a drill, and several holes (that shall not be seen) but it’s hung. There’s a new plant that now calls this space home. We’re all acclimating, adjusting, finding our light. So it goes. It is not perfect, but the act of thriving within the imperfection has been really special to me lately.
Last weekend, I removed the dresser that has called the dining room home for the past year. The books are on the floor, the dresser is in the kids’ room, still unpacked. Again, things are in an imperfect in-between. That’s what home means and often feels like. It is a constant adjustment, and being okay in that.
This week, as the kids have thrown their bags next to the door, undressed in the evening and dressed in the morning, right in front of that sofa, I am reminded that this is life. I have been slow on this space this week. But I’ve been here. And the place within these photos, it feels like the most necessary place to be.
How are you? How’s home these days?