There is an awkward stage when you move into a new place. Try as you might to make it home, it just feels foreign for a while. The usual patterns, the familiar sights and sounds and smells are gone, replaced by boxes, new light coming through windows, new everything.
This can be good. And overwhelming. But at least it’s only temporary.
Those elusive kitchen scissors turned up in a compartment in the car. As I was searching for something totally different I happened to find them, safely tucked away in that “safe place”…which for all practical purposes might as well have been a deep cavern at the end of the earth. I was ready to go purchase a new pair because this essential tool was something I really missed.
That’s just how it goes around here. I may be very organized in some areas, and a total wreck in others. That box over there may have exactly what it says on the outside, but then again it could be a surprise. Among all that stuff we packed and hauled with us we have so much more than we really need, and in due time it will all be sorted out and given a new place.
One of the projects we have going is refinishing some wood floors. Once the old carpet was removed it became very obvious that just cleaning the hardwood was not going to work. So for several days my husband has been working diligently at getting that old finish removed, using a large drum sander first and now a belt sander around the edges.
Oh, and did I mention the sawdust?
While he has been sanding floors I have been working on removing old wall paper and boarders. With every little bit of work that we do we can see the beauty of this old place, that original craftsmanship being revealed.
There is a definite parallel between working on this house and working on my self. I have some close friends who shared with me that they have had similar experiences with remodeling their homes, while major changes happened in their personal lives.
Many years ago I heard a speaker talk about removing the layers of mud from our selves, those facades or masks that we wear. Her point was about how we let this “mud” build up and hide the true diamond, our true self. And now, with every swipe of the sander, with each piece of wall paper that comes down, I think about the changes in the physical place and the changes happening deep within me.
We’ll keep on sanding floors and sweeping up sawdust, tearing down wall paper, unpacking and rearranging. The kitchen scissors will be kept in their new place in a drawer, ready to be used over and over. Other things will be misplaced and found again.
It’s all about moving.
All about finding this new place and calling it home.