Patience through Pickiness

I’m starting afresh.

This summer I finally took the plunge to renovate my home.  An undertaking that has, for years, seemed overwhelming both physically and financially .  But over the last six months the stars have aligned, atmospheric pressure has been suitable and it’s felt right in my “bones” to facilitate a change.  And as anyone who’s renovated knows this change a big one…

one that stretches over more time than you could have possibly have imagined let alone planned for.

But I’m done.  For now.  And I’ve got a big beautifully windowed empty room as my canvas.

And empty it sits.

My living room/dining room/kitchen space is completely empty except for a table I’ve painted white. A result of a springtime purge.  And I’m enjoying the space. The curtain-less windows draw the blue of the sky right into the room.  I’m in no rush to fill it up.

I’m being picky, I mean discerning in my furniture selection even driving to Edmonton to sit on a sofa I was thinking of ordering just to see if it was exactly what I was looking for. I find my careful selectiveness interesting.  Adult-like.  I’ve only ever owned furniture that was the cheap floor model at discount stores or hand me downs from friends or family.

A generic plaid sofa and chair that lasted twelve years until the fabric started to disintegrate.

A black bookshelf bought for seventy-five dollars from a friend who was leaving town that became warped from age and the seepage of water from the plants that sat on top of it.

But now I want furnishings that are reflective of me.

A symbol perhaps.

If I can’t find a piece that I absolutely love I’m not going to make the purchase.  In the past impatience has set in and I settle for something inferior or temporary or not quite “right” then lived with little itches of dissatisfaction as if my home isn’t really my own.  So I’ll wait the six to eight weeks for the living room set with the fabric patterned I’ve carefully picked and my dining room table will go without chairs until I find the perfect white/grey pattern I want.

And my home is becoming  pretty and Parisian and exactly how I want it.

Funny how when you take your time and practice patience in most cases you get exactly what you want. I amaze myself with the patience I’ve learned though this process because I’ve never been a patient person.

Some may say they’re just “things,” material possessions that are lifeless and unimportant.  But what I’m finding exciting is that finally my surroundings are beginning to be reflective of not only who I am, but also what I’d like to become.


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