Several year ago, I stood at the doorway of my living room
and felt like I was thrown back in time.
Everything and anything from the 1980’s to the 1880’s resided in this
space. A room filled with family
treasures, old furniture that was passed down from my grandparents, and the dusty rose
and hunter greens of 1988. Slowly my
eyes traveled around the room. As much as I cherished all the collected
memories of our family, the room was beginning to feel overwhelming. There was just too much stuff. It was
in that moment that the wheels in my brain turned so loudly that the hubs heard
it from our lumpy, comfy family room sofa and he shuttered. He had heard those wheels before!
I thought it would be easy and ten-minutes and not-too expensive and done before The Voice came on.
I thought wrong.
For two long, painstaking years I battled with myself about furniture placement, wall color, what should remain or what to let go. I measured. I shopped. I fretted. I returned. The old furniture was moved around the room so many times trying new arrangement ideas that there were tread marks on the rug. After countless hours spent looking at design magazines, Pinterest, Houzz, and the internet, I still had nothing but an empty room. Sympathetically, my hubs watched me brood over this for months and tried to help out by choosing a paint color for me -- a new trendy color called Dismal Grey. But after it was rolled on, I saw only Putrid Purple. Once again, he heard the wheels turning in my head and offered to repainted the room a different shade of grey because he’s a good guy like that. But the new room color did nothing to reinvigorate my creative mojo, so I simply blamed it on him. How could anyone feel inspired trying to decorate a cold and depressing gray room? Surely it was still the wrong color. But this time he didn’t budge. He liked the color and suggested I just buy some furniture. Sky’s the limit he said. Splurge. Whatever makes you happy. So with plastic in hand, I measured. I shopped. I fretted. I returned. And yet, still nothing!
After dreaming about sofas for weeks, I decided to lay it all down and for six tranquil months my grandson, Henry and I played carpet ice hockey in the big, empty room. LOTS of hockey and LOTS of fun! And for the first time in two years, I found joy and peace in the room—yet there was no stuff. Just me and Henry making memories.
The summer months quickly flew by and as the daylight grew shorter, so did our hockey games. Unless I bought a lamp, our hockey fun would have to come to an end. Since I had still not given up hope of furnishing the room, I decided to start with a lamp.
Just. One. Lamp.
In the end, I bought more than a lamp. Along with a new sofa and a couple chairs, an ugly abstract painting that looked like teenage graffiti made its way into the room. The salesperson talked me into it, but the more I looked at it the more I disdained it. In fact, nobody liked it, but for now the graffiti will remain on the wall. In a weird kind of way, I like that the new room is not perfect. In fact, it's not even all new as three of my most cherished furniture pieces remain in the room. They are old, dinged and outdated, but I love them. I think that’s why I had such a hard time with the room. I wanted to move on, but didn’t want to let go.
But just like life, decorating is all about perspective. It’s about learning to live with what you have and embracing every inch of the imperfect. The flaws, the character, the dings and dents and nicks. But making room for the new. Because truly, here’s the truth that we know, but we often forget. All those imperfections are so much more beautiful and amazing and incredible than perfect and new ever dreamed of being.
I thought it would be easy and ten-minutes and not-too expensive and done before The Voice came on.
I thought wrong.
For two long, painstaking years I battled with myself about furniture placement, wall color, what should remain or what to let go. I measured. I shopped. I fretted. I returned. The old furniture was moved around the room so many times trying new arrangement ideas that there were tread marks on the rug. After countless hours spent looking at design magazines, Pinterest, Houzz, and the internet, I still had nothing but an empty room. Sympathetically, my hubs watched me brood over this for months and tried to help out by choosing a paint color for me -- a new trendy color called Dismal Grey. But after it was rolled on, I saw only Putrid Purple. Once again, he heard the wheels turning in my head and offered to repainted the room a different shade of grey because he’s a good guy like that. But the new room color did nothing to reinvigorate my creative mojo, so I simply blamed it on him. How could anyone feel inspired trying to decorate a cold and depressing gray room? Surely it was still the wrong color. But this time he didn’t budge. He liked the color and suggested I just buy some furniture. Sky’s the limit he said. Splurge. Whatever makes you happy. So with plastic in hand, I measured. I shopped. I fretted. I returned. And yet, still nothing!
After dreaming about sofas for weeks, I decided to lay it all down and for six tranquil months my grandson, Henry and I played carpet ice hockey in the big, empty room. LOTS of hockey and LOTS of fun! And for the first time in two years, I found joy and peace in the room—yet there was no stuff. Just me and Henry making memories.
The summer months quickly flew by and as the daylight grew shorter, so did our hockey games. Unless I bought a lamp, our hockey fun would have to come to an end. Since I had still not given up hope of furnishing the room, I decided to start with a lamp.
Just. One. Lamp.
In the end, I bought more than a lamp. Along with a new sofa and a couple chairs, an ugly abstract painting that looked like teenage graffiti made its way into the room. The salesperson talked me into it, but the more I looked at it the more I disdained it. In fact, nobody liked it, but for now the graffiti will remain on the wall. In a weird kind of way, I like that the new room is not perfect. In fact, it's not even all new as three of my most cherished furniture pieces remain in the room. They are old, dinged and outdated, but I love them. I think that’s why I had such a hard time with the room. I wanted to move on, but didn’t want to let go.
But just like life, decorating is all about perspective. It’s about learning to live with what you have and embracing every inch of the imperfect. The flaws, the character, the dings and dents and nicks. But making room for the new. Because truly, here’s the truth that we know, but we often forget. All those imperfections are so much more beautiful and amazing and incredible than perfect and new ever dreamed of being.
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