Today, I'm showing up. That's all. But some days that's enough--a victory in fact. Because sometimes showing up turns into filling up and then into success. You never know when what seems bad can turn good, so you better just keep showing up.
I read that somewhere years ago. (If you stick with me, you'll see that statement a lot. I'm a constant reader.) It was a piece of advice from mother to daughter, a statement that sums up persistence and faith and discipline, which are indeed very important ingredients in a thriving life. I take those words as my mantra today.
So I'm showing up to the blank space on my screen that needs to be filled, with one big thing on my mind--our Great Big Dream Life. My husband and I have talked about it, envisioned it, and waited for it for years now. The steps toward it sometimes seem glacially and painfully slow, but they are happening. Like selling our house to at least get near our destination. And now, planning the house we have to build in order to live on the land that awaits us.
We now know at least one thing about our future home: it's general form. I have always envisioned a version of the classic two-story homes that the first wave of real-house settlers built around here. My husband, on the other hand, prefers a cozier looking story-and-a-half with dormers. Driving home from work on Monday, we saw examples of a win-win form that would satisfy us both, sort of a tall story-and-a-half with dormers that are pointy (not a technical term, I'm sure, but accurate), unlike the more common doghouse style now playing in subdivisions everywhere (and turning me off every time).
Here's a small version.
And here's a big one.
Hopefully, we can end up somewhere in the middle in size.
It's amazing what you see when you're really looking. Both of these houses were right beside one of our oft traveled roads, waiting to be truly seen when the time was right. I won't be surprised if we see even more examples during future trips. Sort of like buying a white car and suddenly noticing how many white cars there are.
Anyway, of all the thousand decisions to be made when building a house, we may be able to check one off. That is, unless our desired spaces just won't reconcile themselves with the shape. We'll begin to see with draft two. So maybe we really don't know after all, but it's at least probable.
Whatever shape the house ends up taking (Assuming we can afford to build it anytime soon! Determining that is our next step.), we want it to honor the housing heritage around us. My fondest dream would be that visitors drive up and say "You built this house? It looks as if it's been here for a hundred years!" The style we've chosen would definitely help that goal along.
This house we're planning is the first necessary part of the Great Big Dream Life. That step alone will take at least a year if there aren't financial delays. And the rest? We could spend our remaining lifetime building and growing the rural world we envision. But that's OK. A body needs something to work on and toward anyway.
Tomorrow, when I show up again, I'll be bold and write out loud the whole grand scheme we hope to launch. It's amazing and risky and worth trying, but we're not the only dreamers out there. (Check out Jenna's story of trying to achieve her very own Cold Antler Farm). With a little luck and a whole lot of showing up, we might just make it.