When Your Home Stops Feeling Like a Place to Rest
Working from home has taught me something I don't think I would have learnt if I'd left the house every morning to go to work.
My salon is part of my home, which means women don't just walk into a business, they walk into my world. I love that. I've always loved creating a space that feels calm, welcoming and peaceful because I know how much our surroundings can affect the way we feel.
Once the last client has left and I've closed the salon door, I'm already home. There isn't a commute or a change of scenery. Work and home exist in the same space, and perhaps that's why I notice so much.
A mug left on the kitchen counter by someone else is simply a mug on the kitchen counter.
The shoes in the hallway that appeared all of a sudden with no explanation, yet somehow manage to stand out like a sore thumb the moment you open the front door, are simply shoes in the hallway.
The washing that is still sitting in the basket, desperately needing to be folded and put away, is simply washing in a basket.
The letters neatly placed on the kitchen counter that have now been sitting there for three days waiting to be opened... are simply letters on the counter.
Yet somehow, before I've even taken my apron off, I've already decided what all of those things mean.
Nobody else cares how the house looks.
Nobody appreciates how much I do.
Why am I always the one who notices?
Honestly... we can be so judgemental when we want to, can't we?
Not just of other people, of ourselves, of the stories we create in a matter of seconds.
The funny thing is, none of those things have actually said any of that to me.
The mug hasn't whispered that nobody appreciates me. The shoes haven't announced that nobody else cares. The washing basket hasn't told me I'm carrying everything on my own.
I've written that story all by myself.
The stories we create
I wonder how many times we do this every single day without even noticing. Perhaps it isn't a kitchen counter for you. Perhaps it's the dishwasher that nobody emptied.
The school bags left by the door. The toothpaste lid left off again. The unopened post.
The cushions that somehow never stay where you put them.
The events themselves are ordinary.
What changes everything is the meaning we attach to them.
Before long, we're no longer responding to what's actually happened.
We're responding to the story we've created about what it's supposed to mean.
A different way of seeing home
One of the biggest changes I've made over the past year hasn't been learning how to keep a tidier home. It's been learning to separate the event from the meaning.
The event is real. The story is optional.
That doesn't mean it's easy.
I still catch myself doing it. But now I notice it.
I notice how quickly my mind wants to explain someone else's behaviour.
I notice how easily I make ordinary moments personal.
Most of all, I've realised something incredibly freeing.
I can't expect another person to experience the world through my eyes.
The things I notice won't always be the things someone else notices.
The standards I naturally have won't automatically be the standards someone else lives by.
That doesn't make me right.
It doesn't make them wrong.
It simply means we're different.
The moment I stopped expecting everyone else to see the world exactly as I do, I found myself carrying far less resentment around my own home.
Not because the house changed. Because I did.
Your Quiet Mirror Moment
The next time something around your home immediately frustrates you, pause for just a moment.
Before you react...
Before you tidy...
Before you sigh...
Ask yourself,
What has actually happened?
Then ask yourself something even more important.
What have I made this mean?
You might discover they're two very different things.
And sometimes, that single realisation is enough to make home feel like a place of peace again.
Not because everything around us has changed.
But because the conversation within us has.
Continue
Your Reflection
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