Home as Nourishment
I often see beautiful images on Instagram or on Pinterest of gorgeous spaces filled with the loveliest of furniture, art, and textiles. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that this stirs up a bit of melancholy in me. I don’t begrudge the people of their lifestyle, but I know that the way they live: the uncluttered, regularly cleaned, nicely manicured rooms will not be my way of life, probably ever. I have chosen to have a large family, living on one modest income, and want to leave my later years open to serving them as they build their families and also to serve in my community. These are my “lovely limitations” as the Nester calls them.
As I was clearing out photos on my camera roll, I came across a screenshot of a quote by the late American designer, Albert Hadley, that resonated with me:
Design is coming to grips with one’s real lifestyle, one’s real place in the world. Rooms should not be put together for show but to nourish one’s well being.
Isn’t that what we need to do over and again? Come to grips with our *real* lifestyle? My lifestyle is one of homeschooling, opening my door regularly to neighborhood boys, and practicing consistent hospitality. Does this mean I can expect to have perfect carpet, shining floors, sparkling appliances, and expertly coordinated interiors? Not unless I want to exhaust myself and resent people. My real place in this world is messy. The people are messy, and so am I. We live hard in our home; it is here to serve us, not the other way around.
So how can we put together rooms not for show, but to nourish one’s well being? For me, this looks like having plenty of cozy seating, enough throws for everyone who wants one, good lighting, candles, tables to set drinks on, along with the things that make me smile like books, plants, pretty vases, vintage tchotchkes, and scenes from nature. These are the things that nourish me and make me feel like myself. When my children were younger and there were more toys and kid things, I wanted my spaces to be minimalist. It helped me think and cope. Now I find myself leaning towards more abundance, more visual interest, and live in a home that was made for that.
I think Hadley’s thoughts on designing for nourishment instead of for show is an important principle that can apply to how we design our lives. We can set up a life that is impressive, but is it life-giving? We can design a way of being that is enviable, but does it satisfy? As with all things, it’s the heart that matters most of all. Design a life, a real life, based on how it feeds you and others, and the legacy will stand. All else is meaningless.
I pray you enjoy your weekend. May we design it well.
Love,
Aimee