A Feeling of Home
French maison in Chablis countryside, July 2019, Fuji 400h
Our current house has been tricky for me. I have never felt fully settled in it. The last two years have felt disjointed. I haven’t been comfortable. There has been an underlying hum that has quietly but persistently been present - and not in an enjoyable, energizing way. As someone who truly finds the most comfort in her home, and who thinks about it constantly, the last two years have been difficult. I look back to when we brought our son home and I feel chaos but not from the 7.5lb little prince we were now forever bound to. We were still so unsettled in the house. Granted, we had moved in 8 weeks prior; our belongings were in piles, the feng shui in disarray. When I look back on photos of that time, all I see is that dishevelment. Not the new parent uncertainty, not the exhaustion - I see the clutter & chaos. The clutter was never dealt with - it was shoved, moved, sorted, and yet, continued to take up physical and mental space. Although I fully believe it takes at least a year to understand your home - to experience the flow, nuances, and quirks; understand its spirit and how it will help you live your most cozy life - this house has never given me those answers. I’ve been so confused and, honestly, rather annoyed with this house.
So when we received notice that the property owner was selling the house that I have put all of my mental energy into over the last 2 years, I was understandably shocked and rather pissed. What a waste. A waste of time, energy, and money. I have a small amount of sadness; this is where our son was brought home, where he took his first steps, ate his first food, and where he, his father and I grew up. Through all of the chaos and uncertainty that has surrounded us for the last 3 weeks, I have put together that I tend to daydream about the concept of “Home” quite a bit. Obviously, my literal daydream is the château; but I find myself daydreaming about our new home. I am currently trying to work out how our convenient playroom (which is connected to our living room) will be different in the new house. In a house that we haven’t been fully approved for (yet), I’m thinking of where to hang artwork, where to place treasures, how the light will shine through the windows, and how we will finally be able to have window treatments that are not bland and cold.
We will still be renting - an adventure I am ready to end, but the timing is not quite right. Ahh timing. How you are at times such a blessing and comfort, and at others, my biggest fear and nemesis. There is a pervasive thought that because we are being uprooted at no choice of our own, this will undoubtedly extend our time until we own a home and eventually move to France. Is there a direct correlation? I don’t think so. But in my mind, they are intrinsically linked. And perhaps that is what the quiet, dull sadness is feeding off of. The new beginning excitedness is there but not strong. I feel apprehensive even though it feels impossible for a house to be less suited to us than the one we are currently in. It’s almost as if I would take the chaos, confusion, and unsettledness here a little bit longer if I knew it meant that my reverie was still comfortably sitting in the not-so-distant future.
