To Build a Home!

The other day I was thinking about a desire that I’ve had for a while now. Probably because the current place I’m living in is so old that it’s slowly falling apart. Since as long as I can remember I wanted me and my right now nameless and faceless husband to build a home together. Absolutely I want to metaphorically build something beautiful, I’m assuming in a way that is most of marriage, but I also want to have a physical space built around the name of two that will become one. I think it started with the idea that I want the place that we choose to settle in for a while to look like us on the inside and out. The way something is built is important. Now I wont be super upset if this doesn’t happen and I suppose I could just buy a place that’s suitable, that said for the purposes of what’s going on with me right now sharing this little bit of my heart is important.

I know that what’s written below risks me crossing boundaries over the world of web but I guess I think it’s worth the risk for others who have or are thinking like me. I suppose I lean more on the side of openness than guards often disguised in the term ‘boundaries.’

Unlike the English soil I was just traipsing around on, Canada isn’t exactly the greatest place to take notes for building houses. We use fake brick and crappy drywall to make up our ugly exteriors. The UK just does it so much better and knows what it means to take time on space. I think that after all the moving around I’ve done in my late teens to early twenties I owe it to myself to take time on the place I’ll call ‘home’ one day; a place where we’ll build “our home.” At least I hope this will be. I guess this has come up again since I’ve been pondering the point of ‘home’ as of late and what it means to have one.

I just realized that the idea of building a home is scary though. What happens if it’s not what you envisioned? What happens if you’re disappointed? What happens if the place your building burns down? What if it all falls apart? These are all questions I’ve asked myself since deciding to place roots in Toronto 3 years ago. I realize I’m not just typing about the physical stuff now. I’m writing about what I know to be a big scary step for me. INVESTMENT! To build anything there is the need for the investment of time and energy, a lot of which is not appealing if building in the past has ended in failure. Loss. Collapse.

I guess if your reading between the lines of all that I’m writing today you can conclude that the building of a home can also be replaced with the building of a forever love, you know that romancy stuff that happens between a guy and gal and they decide they want to journey into eternity together, or even just the building of friendships. Essentially letting people in. Basically, one too many happily ever afters going bad can leave a girl with a heart that wants to give up on fairy tales. However, a princess without a palace and someone to share it with is a sad tale, what lonely walls she would live behind and empty purpose would be felt.

This all became very evident to me after traveling for this past month and moving around lots. I began to dream about my own pretty plates, my own table and chairs, my own stone walls, my own window sills; a home to call my own. I know I’m not quite there yet but I’m thinking about it and that’s further than I’ve ever been. The castle has been a place of discovery, play, inspiration and at times refuge but it’s not my forever place.

As I squished onto a couch made for four seating five roommates the other night to watch the September Issue for my third time, I came across this incredible tune by Cinematic Orchestra. I didn’t recognize the band but I recognized the tune. A sound that I heard once before in a sweet moment that brought me right back to that old familiar ground. I love and hate that music can do that to a person. Once I looked up what was playing to the gorgeous piano piece that played in the film I found these lyrics by Patrick Watson:

There is a house built out of stone

Wooden floors, walls and window sills...

Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust..

This is a place where I don't feel alone

This is a place where I feel at home.......

Cause, I built a home

for you

for me

Until it disappeared

from me

from you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust........

Out in the garden where we planted the seeds

There is a tree as old as me

Branches were sewn by the color of green

Ground had arose and passed it's knees

By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top

I climbed the tree to see the world

When the gusts came around to blow me down

I held on as tightly as you held onto me

I held on as tightly as you held onto me......

Cause, I built a home

for you

for me

Until it disappeared

from me

from you

And now, it's time to leave and turn to dust........

It’s such a sad melody, the kind that finds your soul exactly where it’s been wandering. However, it did help me understand my fear of beginning to build even if under that fear was nothing but the desire to have a home built. Once I uncovered what gem had been playing in the background I suddenly realized most of what’s mentioned above: It’s just easier to give in to the want of an already made-for-you package than to work on something you really truly desire.

This quote by Balzac that I noticed on the piano of a café the other day sums it quite nicely:

“It is easier to be a lover than a husband (or wife) for the simple reason that it is more difficult to be witty everyday than to say pretty things from time to time.” –De Balzac –

It takes all of us, not just part of us to build something that lasts.

What I hadn’t noticed until that night because I hadn’t ever paid attention to the entire album was that at the end of “Ma Fleur” there is a track that sings back to the fear of “To Build a Home” called “That Home” and written is:

Where the doors are moaning all day long,

Where the stairs are leaning dusk 'till dawn,

Where the windows are breathing in the light,

Where the rooms are a collection of our lives,

This is a place where I don't feel alone,

This is a place that I call my home...

I guess what I’m getting at is I want to believe in a place “Where the windows are breathing in the light and the rooms are a collection of two peoples lives.” I’m tired of being misled by fear, I want love to lead, to build ‘That home’ someday and know in the deep that I was never made to be alone, that I was made to have and to hold.

In the meantime, I’ll put myself where I am, fully being in this place without worry of where I may go next.

I’ll start with fixing up the room that I rent :-)