Last week was consumed by home projects. My mother-in-law was in town and willing to lend her talents to our needy house. Day by day, we checked one to-do after another to-do off our giant Home Renovation List: buy doors, hang doors, by trim, cut trim, hang trim, move furniture, sew pillows, paint this and paint that, be patient with the process, breathe. Six calendar days became a heavy stream of projects. This, that, first, second, last. We plotted and planned and pulled a busy toddler out from under our feet until the very last washer was used.
Now, it is Monday and the house is quiet. There are no more projects or lists. The tools are put away in the darkened basement and June sleeps soundly in her bed, exhausted from the week. I sit in the silence and write, feeling as grateful for the rest as I was for the work.
The newest changes to our home make this space feel more like ours, leaving me more conflicted than usual. How do you know when you should stay and when you should go? I am sure this is an idea that poets and philosophers have spent years marinating, yet still, no one knows the answer. I suppose the trick is simply to enjoy the present and always have a wise plan B in your back pocket.
This week is for play and quality time together. Thankfully Sean is wholly supporting my mission to do nothing, which takes a load of stress away from my nagging conscious. Just be, Danielle. I will set my intention today. Just be.