Walking to work at 6am I saw this

I have always wanted to have a home where I feel at peace. Somewhere that is calm and beautiful. I’m not talking about fancy or expensive, just the sort of home made peacefulness that I have seen visiting people. You know the space where even the messes don’t seem that bad because there is a general balance to the space. Somehow this has always alluded me. The home we are in now is wonderful, everything about it is great, but still there is a softness that is missing. We have too much stuff that just sort of surfaces and never gets put away. And clutter breeds clutter. I am endlessly sending bags of things to the thrift store, into the recycling and the garbage but it never is enough. I wish I was rich briefly, just long enough to hire someone to come and organize our house. Someone who would tell me what to do until the space was made. Until then I find little corners and shelves that I add some beauty to, making small respite. But I dream of my home as a sanctuary, where everything has a place and joy and love, and silence and rowdiness, and creativity and friendship  all come together.

Last weekend I spent hours cleaning and getting rid of stuff, now a week later you could hardly tell. I think I’m missing a big piece of the puzzle. I wonder if all my waiting for a neat space before making it pretty is going about it backwards, for me. May be if the spaces are decorated nicely then I’ll want to keep them clean. Maybe just maybe I should spend a little more time at my sewing machine this week and then go back to the getting rid of part.

After all places like the one in the picture above always fill me with content, even if it is a store. Maybe if there is more pretty the clean and decluttering will follow.

Hmm aren’t you so glad you listened to this conversation with myself?