I had been toying with the idea of finally getting myself to decorate at least ONE room. "Why not?" I asked myself. I come from a family of many women who are steeped in creative endeavors. I grew up with a mother who went through a phase where everything was checker board or sponged. I lived with pins still left in my dresses because my mom just got done making the dress and missed a few. I watched her make everything. I also surrounded myself with extended family who's houses were filled with much time and energy making it a home. I admired my grandmother's picture arrangements as a kid and remember staring at how perfectly placed each frame was. I have cousins who are successful business women in the arts.
I thought maybe I would be someone like that. A decorator or maybe an awesome wall collage designer. Nope. I am sure that I can do all of these things, but I know that I do not enjoy it the way that they do. It will be the last thing I do in my home, when I know it was their first. I clean more than dream of ribbons and lampshades. It used to make me question my creativity, the fact that I found it draining to think of DIY. Now I am realizing that my life is meant for something else.
Trying to fit expectations that I, only, have created really gets in the way. The other day I realized that I don't need to perfectly decorate a room. I can just leave it bare if I want to. I honestly like just having furniture and a rug in a room. I get overwhelmed by items sitting on the dresser. I am more satisfied by NOTHING being there. A lamp is enough. A few books on a shelf is enough. I like a minimal lifestyle or at least the idea of it. So how does this fit with the creativity of my life?
My mind is continually working through stuff. I am constantly taking in information that is around me. When I want to relax, I want to see less. I sometimes wish I could just sit in a white walled room and unfold my thoughts. It would be like taking my words that have developed in my heart and painting the room with what I have found, what I have discovered. I don't need the environment to tell me that what exists is beautiful. What I perceive in simplicity ignites power and focus.
In the end the only thing that really is beautiful, is what is within us. It is not the things we have or the things that we make, it is the drive behind those actions that makes life beautiful and satisfying. I am slowly beginning to love that I have a simple home. Taking the time to enjoy the parts of ourselves that sets us apart or might not be expected, is what makes this life creative and ever changing. What is it that drives you? What is it that makes YOUR house a home?