Friday, November 5, 2010

Life on Pause

I spent a serene few days enjoying my small space last week. I took some time off from work and for four days I woke up to the quiet of my home, the leaves changing outside my window, the sunlight slanting through. My husband was at his job, my son away at college, my daughter at school and my mother just a few short steps across a courtyard. Feeling their presence in my house, I rambled amid the comfortable clutter of books and papers and family pictures, lovingly used candles, painted ceramic pieces made by my daughter, the birthday cake she whipped up for her dad on Thursday night after winning her semifinal soccer game, the armoire that holds my trusty laptop and a crocheted angel and keyboard dreams, the spanking new orange dutch oven my husband wanted for his birthday, the broken cabinet door in the kitchen, fresh laundry waiting to be folded in my son's room, the soothing maple floors scuffed in memory-rich places, the red wooden hearts and the batik green tablecloth my mother-in-law gave us one Christmas, all of it quietly breathing its history around me, allowing me slowness and simplicity, fostering peace.

I love my house on such days. It's a city apartment with abundant light and just enough room for our family, but not so much that we don't have to tumble over one another daily, relishing our individual absurdities, finding humor in small things. And for four days last week, I also got to be alone in this space for hours at a stretch, knowing that my loved ones would find their way back to me at some point in the day. In the meantime I could enjoy solitude untouched by loneliness—for me a rare and beautiful break in the proceedings, life on necessary pause.


  1. Oh, what a great place you have! I'm envying your beautiful stock pot.

  2. I could move in, right this second, and feel completely at home.
    Thank-you for sharing. I am glad you got to enjoy your sanctified space for a few days all by yourself.

  3. Ms. Moon, I got a new camera and this is what I did: walked around the house taking pictures. notice the unfolded laundry didn't make it onto the blog, however! almost.

    Willow, my husband is busy leafing through his recipe books trying to decide how to inaugurate the pot. It's his pot, by the way. Definitely his.

  4. What a wonderful, tidy home you have!!
    I love peeking in! Thank you for inviting us.
    I also love the view from the window.
    The cake your daughter made looks delicious!!
    Wish I had a piece for my Saturday breakfast!! :)
    Sending you a big hug,

  5. i love your home. it's so nice! and i love those rare but cherished moments of solitude. they're not enjoyed as much as they should be.

  6. Hi Angella,

    I came over from Steve's blog (Shadows and Light) because I really liked your comment there and I am so glad I did. I really enjoyed this post because you captured that wonderful feeling I know so well of being surrounded by precious memories in a little pocket of time that is safe, peaceful and full of love. It's calming. Healing. How wonderful for you.

    Was your husband's birthday on November 4th? That is my birthday as well. Another Scorpio? Ha, you have your hands full. Good thing you had time to refresh.

  7. Just beautiful.

    Of course.

    I have a pot just like your husband's. I love it bad.

    Your home is so beautiful and alive. It radiates love.



  8. Gabriele, come on over and share the cake!

    Candice, you do know!

    Gary, my husband is indeed a Scorpio so yes, I do have my hands full--but I confess i like it! I am so glad you came by and introduced yourself. I am heading over to you now. (and don't we miss Steve?)

    Scott, it is a beautiful pot. I am sure yours gets a lot of use, as will ours (his).

  9. Oh, I love this so much! Thank you for the peek into your home. I love the sunlit kitchen, and the stacks of books, and the family photos.

    You've inspired me to try this on my blog!

  10. Ah, ellen, i would love to visit you that way!

  11. do you rent out your space for retreats?
    just leave something in that pot and some coffee brewing and tell the leaves to stay put for a bit.

    I love love love this. I wish you were my neighbour.
    I kind of feel like you are now in a way.

    (and I'm so happy for you that you got this. this soul time )