It was hard at first to even remember things about the old house that were anything but utterly and inarguably perfect. We missed it a lot (we still do). I think I’ve talked before about the longing for that space, almost more than the things that occupied it. It was our space, and once it was lost we instantly and conveniently forgot about its warts and blemishes. It had been perfect…hadn’t it? We were fortunate enough to be able to build on the same slab, which saved us a lot of money – and so I think we assumed that we’d build the same house on that same slab. We were unable to imagine anything else, but KK egged us on.
In the old house, all four bedrooms were down a single hallway. This was ideal for most of the time we’d lived there - the kids were small and we liked the comfort of being close. They are teenagers now – living in that crazy place between dependence and independence, child and adult, here and there. And I want no part of that.
I kid, I kid.
The truth is that they are absolutely funny, self sufficient, and unique mostly-adult people (coming from a completely biased mom) who we like hanging out with. But as they grew to adult-size, we found ourselves kind of on top of each other space-wise. So KK led us to the vision of a new master bedroom – clear on the other side of the house. Wait…what? But......there is/was a kitchen on that other side of the house after all! KK’s responses went something like: “So we’ll move it” and “Anything is possible when you start from scratch”. That’s when it clicked for me that the new house didn’t have to be a poor imitation of the old house. The new house could wear the same shoe size as the old house (same footprint) but maybe it’s a brand new shoe.
Once we had planned to move the master to where the kitchen was, we dared to go further. Where, then, would the kitchen go? KK suggested putting it at the back-center of the house, with big bold windows looking out into the backyard. “Anything is possible when you start from scratch.” Indeed.
I found strength in her imagination. I even asked about having a little patio teeny-tiny –
just enough for two chairs – leading out from the master bedroom. That was how my “zen space” was born. I secretly suspect that Kurt embraced the idea of the zen space as a personal project because my little “teeny-tiny space” ended up being about 12x12, with a beautiful stone floor, and an amazing hand crafted wooden frame and ceiling. It’s entirely screened in, and has a doggy door too. All of which makes it pretty perfect.Our zen space is slowly getting outfitted with everything a decent zen space needs, like a twirly marbly hanging thing from my friend Kim, a bamboo plant from Kenzie and Doug, comfy furniture, whisper quiet ceiling fan, and of course the little happy Buddha and the miniature zen garden that Emmett gave to me for mother’s day.
It’s really such a nice space, and I am so grateful for it.
And I swear it takes its job seriously. It is peaceful out there, and always welcoming. I get to sit out in this space with a cool drink and a warm dog or two, sharing time with my hubby, talking about the good things our kids are off doing, figuring out how to do this empty nest thing - and there’s just a calm that settles in. It is a deeply joyful place.
So today was one of “those days” - my hard drive died, work was crazy hectic, and the local news was not good – another 1000 acres on fire in Bastrop – on top of what those poor people have already endured. These terrible fires make us cry and ache for the families who are losing their homes. We know all too well the treacherous and exhausting paths down which they are just beginning. We know that they have no way of knowing that it will easily be a two year recovery as it has been for us. We hadn’t known either – how could we have? We could not know, we would not know, until we walked in those shoes. I came home, poured a little wine, and went out to sit with Buddha and unwind. And as I sat there, I was reminded once again how incredibly, humbly fortunate we are. It is still overwhelming, how so many people did so much for us, gave and gave and gave so that we could recover and find ourselves in this beautiful space.
My fervent wish for the many Bastrop and Austin area families who are just beginning down a path we know all too well is that they have someone who dares them to dream, that they have a tidal wave of support and love that washes over them, and that in the end they find themselves with new shoes that are even more perfect than the ones these fires are taking from them.
