I was chatting to Gregor on Friday morning (he’s my amazing PT and the person who is keeping me walking on my left leg and fast becoming a very good friend of mine).
He's not married yet, not until the summer, but lives with his fiancée, Emily, and their dog, Harvey, and he never sits still, never.
He told me that they were thinking of going away for the weekend in the camper van that he built out of a shell of a van and completely plumbed it and put in the electrics and all of the furniture.
Him and Emily and Harvey were going away so they could have a ‘work weekend away’ and I was discussing this with him while he was kicking the sh*t out of my leg to try to keep it moving.
Basically, in essence, they have a list on the fridge where they add the jobs that have to be done around the house, and the list has now become so big and so overwhelming that in order to get some work done on their work (they’re both self-employed) they take the van away with the dog and work on their laptops for some deep work somewhere else.
I can identify with this entirely and wholeheartedly as I'm sat in a relatively dark dining room at the moment, surrounded by bits of paper that I've created during the Sab.
How is it that we turn our houses into places that we have to escape from in order to get peace and quiet?
I think we all do it.
I think houses surround us with things that need fixing and modifying and updating and changing and all manner of other things and we just lose the ability to focus deeply on the things that matter and other things that give us joy.
And so, I find myself forever ripping up the list on the fridge and rewriting it (I don’t have a list on the fridge, but you understand what I mean).
Perhaps the best thing for us to try to do is to reclaim our houses as safe places and calm places and places where we can feel deep joy and contentment.
Blog Post Number - 3341