Our previous house was inward focused. The house was situated on a back block and the front of the house didn’t look out onto the street, but rather at the back of someone else’s house. The kitchen, (where, let’s face it, I spend most of my day), looked out across a small courtyard to the family room. So my view was never connected to anyone else, it was inward looking, closed and private. And that’s kind of how we liked it, for that season of our life.
We have been in our new house for over two years now and each day I love it more. I am astounded by how much the windows in this house affect me. I love the fact that this house looks out. The front rooms have street views, and I feel connected to my neighbours. The main living areas have views which yes, include roofs and fences, but also the trees in the park at the end of the street.
In this house I find myself constantly looking out. I see clouds tinged with pink and gold, or grey and foreboding. No matter what I see out the window, it doesn’t fail to make me pause and acknowledge. I didn’t realise how important that was for me. I didn’t realise how much healing there could be in one moment, in the midst of the craziness, of looking out.
After a day like yesterday, I felt some need for my soul to readjust, to reestablish my equilibrium. Yet this morning I didn’t find it. I was rushed and hurried trying to get the family organised for church. And with there being no Sunday school this morning, church wasn’t relaxing either. Shushing children, toilet trips, managing who gets the coloring pencils at which time.
But after, I got a chance to pray with a dear friend, I got some time to talk with the women who are organising the women’s event with me, I came home and fed my family. For a few moments, in the midst of my craziness, I stopped and focused on something other than me for a while.
It’s funny how looking out can give you peace within.