I remember not so long ago when we were traveling across the States and I was reading some of my favorite bloggers sharing their excitement about creating a home for their family; Erin who was converting a church into a beautiful house, Nici who was working at renovating a great house in Missoula and Soulemama who makes her house more homey by the day... And there were the farmers and gardeners who kept reminding me about our past life on the farm; Taisa and her northern life that reminds me so much of our time in the Yukon, and Rachel, who has lived and gardened on her property for over 18 years and who is such a treat to read... As much as their stories spoke to me, I felt so disconnected from their reality. It was something I did not long for and thought I would not long for for a good while...
Now that we are back in our little house in Quebec, I catch myself dreaming of a home that feels like home, a kitchen (or a bathroom) where we can be 2 without going crazy, missing our farm house, missing the presence of animals in my life (it's probably not helping that I am reading The Dirty Life)... The girls keep cramming everything they own on their bed in their tiny shared bedroom, because it's the only place that is theirs... Nowhere to find silence and quiet if one wants it... The colder it gets, the smaller our little chalet house feels. I know we are blessed to have a roof over our heads and I am truly grateful for that, but when you live 5 in a house 7 days a week, 24 hours a day, space is not a luxury... unless you really want to get on each others nerves... (oh the violin practices!!...).
I hear you say that we lived in a trailer for a year... but it's so different when you are camping and living outside most of the day... I didn't mind our small house in Costa Rica because we didn't live in it. We pretty much only slept in it! We ate our 3 meals outside and spent our days outside... It's so very different than in the North... and very different with growing girls that need more space in general (and from each other in particular...).
|:: A banner Nini and I made for a friend's surprise party ::|
|:: Celebrating! ::|
|:: A drawing Aisha made on wool transformation ::|
|:: There is a great story of a daughter of the Chinese Realm who was having tea under a mulberry bush when a worm-cocoon fell into her hot tea and she unspun the fiber and realized how long it was, and thus was born the silk industry ::|
|:: Still talking about the pioneers and learning more English words by the same token (no, my girls are not bilingual yet!) ::|
|:: Discovering linen and learning some embroidery stitches at the same time ::|
There are bumper stickers for Westfalia owners that say: Home is where you park it. And this is what you realize when you travel: you can be home anywhere. Why is it harder to feel home in one place than in many temporary places then?... Or is it only a traveler's problem? How is it that I long for a place to call home while at the same time dreaming of being totally free and travel to my heart's content?
I am pretty much always clear about where I want to be, where I am heading and what my vision is for my family and myself. But right now, everything is muddled. It’s an unusual feeling for me. Sitting through this haze requires lots of faith and patience… I feel very vulnerable, unsettled.
The freedom our lifestyle provides us is sometimes dizzying. We are truly blessed, I know. And I want to keep that freedom and this is why I wanted to sell our house and go. But are we truly free if we don't have a home base, move around endlessly until we drop from too much of it? What would make me truly feel free? And in the end, is freedom the ultimate goal? Or wouldn't it rather be contentment?
What do you think? What does make you feel free?