Sunday morning, I woke up to my 12 year old daughter asking me to sit with her for a bit. She told me she is OK with the move and living in a condo, but also misses the spaciousness of our old home and the outdoor space to run around. I can understand her longing. She also gets that we are moving on to a new home, eventually, where we will have even more usable space and a nice yard again. For now, this is where we have landed. And it is different. Which was part of the adventure.
We moved last Friday and really, we are practically settled thanks to the mission and love of our friends. When I said, “No I don’t need help” they said “Pisha! Everyone needs help, silly girl.” And with that, boxes were quickly unpacked and removed, meals and mandel bread delivered and flowers left gracing the front step. We even got a Starbucks card so that we could enjoy a “transition treat” every morning for a week.
Lucky for me, some of my friends are also decorators. Colette has Core Interiors (denverdesigngirl@gmail.com). She thinks a lot about how the core of your home can align with the core of your Being. She came and cleared the energy of the condo before we moved in. Honestly, I can feel the difference and if nothing else, had a good laugh in the bedroom as we marched around with a bell. Laughter and good intentions definitely make a dwelling a home.
Another friend, Marsha Blum (www.interiordesignpartnership.com), specializes in “Greenish Thoughts – designing from the heart while thinking of the planet” (check out her website for more on what “green design” is all about). She suggested using what I have to make this house a home.
Lately whenever you read about interiors, everything is supposed to have the “Wow” factor. I’ve been adding a different dimension to the way I think about interiors by using more of an “Ahhhh” factor. The “Ahhh” factor comes from sitting back and enjoying the things you have that make you cozy and comfortable. Perhaps you have an antique piece that doesn’t feel special. Maybe you could use it and treasure the piece because of its sentimental value. Try to dress it up and find a way to bring it into your current life that fits your interior style. Until you are ready to buy some new pieces, use what you have with a different spin and enjoy them. “Ahhh”.
And creative friend, Kristi Dinner (www.companykd.com), did the re-model of a kitchen and bath for our dear friends. Her work is amazing and inspired me to ponder and dream about what could be next in our new home. She created a chandelier for their kitchen table that incorporates small meaningful pieces our friends had collected, like an earring, a heart-shaped rock found on a distant beach and a coin. How fun is that!
Before moving, we got rid of 3 trucks of junk and donated over half our clothes books and “things” to Goodwill. Half of everything left went into storage and the rest came to the condo. We are living lean and easy. Surrounded only by things we love.
We spent the day planting flowers in the patio boxes and hanging baskets by the windows. We are here til we find “next.” And with a little help from our friends, hope to bloom where we are planted.
What little ways do you find to mindfully bloom where you are planted?
Let us know!
themindfullcreative.com 
I love this post Robin! Thanks so much. What a great way to begin the week..
Thanks R. Love this one. So relevant as I start on my spring cleaning and feeling more energized by my surroundings. You’ve inspired me to repaint, move some furniture and enjoy my space. Thanks!
I have inherited antiques that I rotate on my dining room buffet. In winter I put out white things; in spring, pink and flowery; in summer something cooling; in fall, copper and wood. This way I don’t forget the carnival glass vases my great-aunt gave me, or my grandmother’s beautiful little cream and sugar set, my first mother-in-law’s silver candle holders; my second mother-in-law’s flowered bowls and shiny trays and my mother’s cut glass. Each piece, and there are many more, keeps the first-owner’s memory alive.
Blooming where you’re planted: I bloomed here in Oregon for 22 years, now I’m back after many, many years. Every morning when I go out to get the newspaper and I smell that paper mill smell wafting in on the northern breeze I think, “This is home.” Again, on rainy but warmish days I think, “This is what home felt like when I was 10, and this hasn’t changed.”
Whether or not it’s home, I think having a sense of place—as in where you are at any givien time—feeling the air, seeing what’s on the horizon, noticing what’s growing, watching the sky gives you an awareness of the great diversity of places, what could happen there, what couldn’t, could you bloom there.