I'm still reeling in this sense of seeing things anew. I don't know how other people feel when they travel, I can only assume the same thing happens to us all. It takes mental leaps and bounds for me. It seeps into my subconscious and changes my dreams. I feel unhinged from where I belong and inhale the new place I'm in and make it part of me.
So that when I return, I have to go through a process of dismantling and rebuilding. And sometimes that's difficult, when there are elements of a place I'm not ready to let go of. And in other ways, there's a high that comes from that, the idea that you can forge something new, that you can step into your home changed by all you've seen and felt.
On Saturday, I was weary from travel and felt not ready to come back. But I came inside and the calm of my home descended upon me and I appreciated deeply all I've done to build this for myself from scratch. And I felt at once that it's where I belong but also that it's such a lovely place to belong, that it's a lovely home. The light streamed onto my armchair and my lemon tree was blooming, filling the apartment with that gorgeous scent.
And we consciously do these things; place a chair here, buy plants, pile books on the coffee table. Yet it's rare we feel the full effect of these tiny gestures. But there's a quality to them that creates something beautiful; a little moment you would barely feel the need to remark upon in the everyday.
The National Museum of Ireland has installations of domestic settings through the ages. And, perhaps anticipating that these domestic details are too often overlooked, they stenciled this Thomas Moore quote on the wall: "The ordinary arts we practice every day at home are of more importance than their simplicity might suggest".
And the quote itself is ordinary and plainly true. But when I came home I felt its full force; the ordinary arts evident in my home and that sense of being in a place that makes me feel cared for and soothed. And I often think all this decor malarkey we go on about is obsessive and materialistic. But these ordinary arts are at the heart of it.
it's the sunlight that often does it for me. the way it casts its light across a favorite blanket, or chair, reminding me that it's mine. that i'm lucky.
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful post. I love the way travel shifts, changes and challenges the way I think and view the world -- and if I can come home with a new appreciation of what I have around me every day, even better!
ReplyDeleteI always feel different about home when I visit a new place, my ideas about it constantly change whenever I gain new insight. But I feel like home is whatever and whereever you make it! I always feel more comfortable where of all my stuff is...
ReplyDeletehaving moved this summer i felt so distinctly the need to make a home for myself. it was a very difficult transition for me and i found myself almost obsessing over creating a space. i don't imagine that all people have as great a need as me to do this but i realized that for me this self-expression through living space is paramount.
ReplyDeletenext time i travel i will be thinking of your thoughts here and paying attention to my own reactions in leaving and in coming back.
what a beautiful post and reflection.
ReplyDeleteThat Thomas Moore quote reminds me of a course I once took on the philosophy of food -- it was so much fun, and one of the things that stuck with me was the idea of the ordinary, how to keep extraordinary things from becoming ordinary, and how to preserve that sense of focus on the important things. We read a book called "Technology and the Character of Contemporary Life" at the same time we were talking about this in the class, and although the title doesn't seem like it, it does bring up similar concerns about what is at the heart of life.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your blog, it gives me so much to think about!
I love those rare moments. I tend to have it hit me after a cleaning bout on a silent afternoon. The laundry is done, the house is all tidy and the sun comes in the window and I suddenly feel washed with peace. Homemaking is an old art form, for sure.
ReplyDeleteI'm still reeling in this sense of seeing things anew.
ReplyDeleteI love this line with its openness and freshness and its slight ambiguity. Are you reeling it in in a contemplative, fisher(wo)man way, drawing it closer to you along your line? Or are you reeling in the powerful, suckerpunch impact of revelation? Both maybe.
I imagine your fishing to be a bit like that of Wandering Aenghus -
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Hello Jane, I just found your blog and I am very much enjoying your writing. Being Irish also and now living in North America, I, too recently returned from Ireland and posted about my travels.
ReplyDeleteIt is with very mixed feelings that I return this time. Now I must get back to your blog and continue reading, so excuse me.
I am your new follower
Helen Tilstonxx
love this.
ReplyDelete