By so many accounts, I live a charmed life. And as far as the world is concerned, I am richly blessed in every material aspect. New car. Nice house. Nice furniture. Good job. Solid bank account. Closet/drawers full of clothes. Every material thing I could actually possibly need in a day, well, I have it. This is true of so many of us. Dare I say all of you who read this blog could well say the much of the same is true of your lives?
And then it happens. We go somewhere - often a friend's house - and see IT. Sometimes ITs small and unassuming - as unoffending as a candle sitting on their table. And other times ITs nearly smacking you in the face letting you know how you don't have IT. ITs that thing. That hunger that rises up when you see something you don't have, you've never had, you didn't even know existed - but now you will feel utterly incomplete and empty without IT. IT consumes so many thoughts and even feelings and conversations. You think of little else. You wonder when you will be fortunate enough to have one of your very own ITs in your possession.
As of late, IT (for Hubby and I) has been the house. We love our house. We have taken great joy in making it into a home - as you can see from all those pesky house tours you've been subjected to. We can honestly say as we look around our home that we lack for nothing. We have enough space. Our house is very nice. We live in a nice neighborhood. Nothing is glaringly wrong with any structural aspects. We genuinely really truly totally completely love our house.
We've even had conversations similar to this:
J - How long do you think we'll live here?
B - I could live here another 10 years. Maybe 15.
J - I think I could live here forever.
B - Really?
J - Yes. I love this place. I don't ever want to move.
Perhaps its because we have poured so much of ourselves (sweat and character alike) into our home. Maybe its because we feel so personally attached to it because, well, we attached our personality to it. Wall colors, windows, decks, carpet, decorating, furniture, etc. But I just really don't want to ever leave. The mere thought makes me very sad. I find myself mentally calculating just how many children we could have and still live here. Stack them high enough and really, is there any limit?
So many people we know are building or buying new homes. Beautiful homes. Wonderful places to raise their family. We drive by or visit and whisper wistfully "wow". In the next breath we start talking about how much we love our house - all the elements we enjoy about it. Like we are somehow trying to talk ourselves out of feeling jealous. Okay, maybe that's just what we ARE trying to do. Reassurance.
I pass no judgment on people who buy a new house or build their dream home. No. I don't particularly care one way or the other what kind of house you live in. But I really think Hubby and I have stumbled upon something here. Contentment. Yeah, we occassionally see something that rattles the cages a bit, but after a few moments we always come back to the same thing - we really are happy with what we've got. We don't need a new house. We don't really want a new house. We want to live for years in our house. IT isn't glamorous. IT isn't new. IT is simply our home. And new or not, a home has nothing to do with double-car garages, stainless steel appliances, spotless carpet, stone walkways, or windows that birds don't attack. Home is this place. This place where we eat and sleep and laugh. And for us, home is just exactly where it needs to be right now.