Published on 12, July, 2020
I was just talking to this lovely nurse and was explaining that going outside makes me anxious because of the people and unfamiliar surroundings and she asked me what I like most about my home and what makes it safe for me. And I thought that would be interesting to ask here as well, if you're comfortable to say of course :)
I like a lot of things about my home. All my favourite possessions are there. It's peaceful and I know I'm always comfortable and happy there. And probably the best thing is it's in the countryside.
Not a lot I know but they are big things for me.
Home is sanctuary. That's the most fundamental thing. No matter how saturated with sensory overload, crippling self awareness, and stress I can get in the wilds beyond the walls (everywhere from the office to streets to shops to.... any number of environments), there is always that moment of closing the front door behind me and feeling at last shielded from the cumulative bombardment of ambient complexity. Not that I immediately relax, but the quiet and the privacy and the sense of (as you said as well) familiar things, and a space I have control over and ownership of do begin to get me into a better and less dysregulated mental/emotional state. I live alone, and some solitude in the day is generally crucial to my staying well, even if I see the importance of balance in that too.
I moved into my home a year ago. It is a bungalow in a quiet cul de sac, and (for a house in the city suburbs) has a surprisingly therapeutic view. The houses behind fall away on a lower level (it's nice to have the gentle wisp of smoke from their chimneys just in the periphery of vision) so I have a massive bit of sky, and a clear view out to a mountain that takes on many hues over any given day. My sofa is next to a big floor to ceiling picture window affording a great view of all of it. A neighbour's apple tree overhangs my side and softens the edges of the border between. There is a little bit of gentle wild in my garden - brambles, and ivy, and I let the grass grow fairly long as the birds seem to like the cover. It's a little bit of mindfulness to watch them and try and suspend rumination as I do so. I have a lovely old piano too, that I can turn my head to watch the view from as I play. I have a tiny kitchen, with little wooden double doors that can seal it off at an angle but just as often sit open. I have no plans to expand it. it's the last surviving 'as it was' kitchen in the street (the houses were built in the Sixties) and I like it that way. The lounge is, accordingly, generously proportioned but still cosy in its way.
I'm a homebird by nature, quite indoorsy really, but I sometimes like to take a walk around dusk or after dark, in the autumnal chill, and then step back into the comforting warmth. I hope I spend the rest of my days in my house, however long that turns out to be.
That sounds really lovely Shardovan - the view sounds really beautiful. I love the image of the gentle wisps of smoke from the chimneys of the houses below your window. I love walks at dusk too - and in the autumn it can be especially nice. I don’t like intensely hot weather - so I really enjoy the beginning of autumn and that chill in the air. I’m glad you love your home - it lovely to read about how happy it makes you.
Thanks Kate! Those houses behind have flat roofs too (like my own), so there's this illusion of a millpond sheen on some of them (the ones that angle away) after a heavy downpour. Combine that with the golden light and longer shadows of Autumn and you get an almost picture-book quality at times. I don't want to overstate my view as something objectively incredible (I'm sure some people would just shrug) but it's special to me. One part of the 'vista' was recently cut off though. I used to have a view to the right of the mountain of the hill on which our devolved government's home, Stormont, sits. It glitters most beautifully at night, but now my neighbours have put a big shed between me and that. They're nice people and it's their right to do so, it's just knowing what I'm missing... I can still see it if I stand on tiptoes on the decking, but that just makes me look like a nosy neighbour so I ration that a lot.