Every time I travel somewhere, I learn a little bit more about how to keep a home. In most countries I’ve been to, I’ve been invited to someone’s house so I’ve been able to see how people live differently. I realise that there is no right way, there is only a preference… and over the years I’ve collected ideas that one day I’d like to make part of my own home. Whatever it is, a home is always a reflection of the people who live in it.
I’ve noticed that in France, people are not afraid to show their personality through their house. In fact, in almost every home I’ve visited in this country, it seems customary to give a “tour” as they call it here. It always makes me laugh a little, because most of the time I’m not so interested to see the private spaces of a person’s home… but it’s a wonderful way to start a visit and it gives you something to talk about before you settle in for a meal.
Maybe that’s why I’ve always observed a little clutter in a French home. In some countries, clutter is not something that is desired and indeed it can often make a home look disorganised and messy. But in France, they somehow make it look cosy. It turns the home into a story… a series of little anecdotes gathered together in one space. As a guest, I figure it’s so the conversation can keep flowing over the dining table. But as I consider my own home more often, I realise that it’s simply nice to surround yourself with items that you love.
My life on the road for the last eight years has made me turn into a kind of minimalist. The only thing I need to arrange and organise is my suitcase, and the various places in the world where I have left my things. There is a compartment for everything in my head, it’s very functional. I feel that I have been missing the pleasure that you get from the accumulation of things that are meaningful for you. That moment when you are sitting in your favourite chair reading a book, you glance up briefly as if by accident, and something catches your eye that reminds you of a beautiful moment from your past.
I want to feel the warmth of clutter again, a clutter that means something to me. When my friends and I were looking through old photos a few days ago, they said to me that the past was a better time in many ways. However, many years ago you couldn’t take as many photos as you can now, so this particular aspect is better in the present times. I thought about it for a moment and responded: but nowadays there are too many photos on our phones, on our computers… we are saturated with them. He shook his head and said – yes, but that’s not the fault of technology, that’s because it’s used in the wrong way.
That comment has returned to me, as I sit by the window watching the sun filter through the curtains and thinking of my own, imaginary home. For so long, I’ve thrown out, donated, cleared, organised… I have done a lot of interesting things in my life but, what I have to show for it seems sterile. I’ve been running away from physical things, as if they are burdens, and this whole time I’ve not truly recognised their importance. A little mess, a little clutter, is needed to create fertile ground so that something can grow. It feels like the last eight years I’ve been shedding, cleansing, purifying… and now finally I want to jump back into the dirt like a little seedling, get messy and watch my garden grow.
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