Coming Home

I've been in such a state of bliss in my apartment lately.

Some days I'll just walk around in the morning room to room feeling so much satisfaction looking at all the I've built. There's just been visceral feeling of home that's come over me in the last few years, the past few months even more so. Filling the space with things that I’ve been curating slowly - and intentionally. Everywhere I look brings me little hits of joy.

My favourite handmade mug collection from local potters or ones I've picked up on while travelling. One of my favourite things is to get to choose from them for my morning coffee. The vintage frames, some with the original artwork - frayed paper edges and all. It's the knives on display in the kitchen that I get to use for making something delicious. The dining set that's been in the family for generations with so much character. The plants on my patio that are old friends I can tell my secrets to on those quiet sunny mornings where there's still a slight chill in the air that feels like a fresh renewal every morning. My Peleton bike where I see all the sweat sessions singing along to my favourite 80s music (thanks Sam Yo).

I look at my bed and can feel being cozy under the comforter with a good book in the dead of winter. Or right now in the middle of Spring waking with the sun pouring in my window and the sound of all the neighbourhood birds. I see the spots on the floor where my nephews have camped out for sleepovers, laughing and telling jokes in the dark or all snuggled together on my bed reading our own books in silence - just being together.

There's still little projects I want to do and I used to feel this need to rush to do them but now I'm relishing in going slow. Doing it with intention.

Building a home that truly feels like me.

It wasn't always this way.

I've had this apartment for almost 15 years and at one point I decided to move into the city. Because I thought that was the thing to do. To get away to where the action is.

When covid happened after doing the city life for a bunch of years I moved back. And at that time I thought it would be short term - I'd sell it an plans move. Things did not go as planned of course.

I made up so many things in my head about how it wasn't going to fit. There wouldn't be a good coffee shop on every corner. My favourite grocery stores where I know to find all the good ingredients. Less night life. I also somehow made it out to be a failure. That leaving the city meant something about me as a person. That my next move was supposed to be into a house with a husband.

But the most amazing thing started to happen after the boxes were unpacked.

First was being back in the quiet instantly made me relax. After being so used to loud city noise the silence was one of the most soothing things.

I found my local farmers market that is literally on a farm and got to know the owners. And quickly found out they had a community garden that had a spot available - I'd been on a seven year waitlist for one in the city so this was like hitting the jackpot

The more I settled in, the more it felt like home.

The beautiful part looking back on it now is that it's also what was happening for me on the inside.

Coming home to myself.

I didn't know it at the time but it gave me the space to really just be with me and unravel the layers that no longer served me. The layers that were never actually mine to being with. To face some uncomfortable truths. Letting go of all the beliefs about who I thought I was supposed to be and what a good life was supposed to look like, to stop chasing things that truly weren't what I was looking for.

Finally surrendering into more of who I really was. And as much time as I spent alone those first few years, I felt more comfortable with myself than so many of the nights I'd force myself to go to places and be with people just to be 'out' and social - but I always knew it never really fit. There were so many things that felt forced.

And now I know why.

Sometimes unexpected changes are catalyst to something better that we ever could have imagined.

That's what that time felt like for me. And looking back i couldn't be more grateful because it brought me to where I am now.

Home in my body.

Home in my soul.

Home in my heart.

I love the quiet mornings having my coffee ritual at home where I can talk to my plants and soak up the sunshine with a good book.

Nothing makes me happier than being barefoot in the garden talking about growing things with my little community there.

I don't have to try to keep up or fit in with anyone else if it means sacrificing who I am.

I get to build my home and my life in the way that feels most satisfying to me. And though this may not be the forever space I call home, the most important thing is that I’ve come home to myself and I will forever be grateful to these four walls for holding space for me to do that.

I will go adventures, experience and see all the things I want in my life but now I do them for me. I do them because I'm at home with me and there's such a sigh of relief that comes with it.

Allowing myself to truly be all of me without apology. To be so in tune with that and to build a life from that place changes everything.

More things:

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Let’s build a life that feels like home.

Your soul knows the way.