I've been feeling particularly Southern these days. Maybe it's the hot-sweet smell of the magnolias in this impetuous June heat, or maybe it's the calluses on my hands as we continue our fourth consecutive week of construction that has somehow put me in touch with myself once again. Sometimes I think I was born to live a quiet Southerner's life and spend my time using my hands -cooking, scrubbing, painting, fixing, making. After so much time spent on a single window pane, it starts becoming about something else. You begin to see all the love that goes into the details.
Ahh, potential. Lord knows it's there, but reaching it is the real ass-kicker. Whether it's scraping away 60 years of lead-based paint or trying to live your life on purpose -it's all a mystifying experience, isn't it? It's a matter of pooring your heart into everything you do that allows that potential to shine through. Otherwise you're just missing out on the beauty of it all and you become blinded by what lies on the surface.
But pooring your heart into something for hours, days, weeks at a time, is exhausting. Mentally, physically, emotionally. I'm damn-near running on fumes and I think I've forgotten one key element to this whole process: The joy of life -my joie de vivre! I've literally dreamed of owning a "fixer-upper" my whole life and here I am just going with the motions -and not soaking it up! What the Frank?!
Last night was the first night in our new home and as we speak, our house sits full of unopened boxes with unorganized piles of whoknowswhat everywhere. You'd think all I'd want is to be at my new home after all this anticipation, but no. All I wanted in the world was to stop! the madness and go somewhere with my husband where I could do NOTHING but enjoy the moment with him.
Dan Auerbach of the Black Keys