“You never conquer a mountain. Mountains can’t be conquered. You conquer yourself – your hopes, your fears.”
We are in the final plan stages. Our builder is drawing up the final set and putting the finishing touches on what will be the instructions for building our home. My head is spinning.
During the month of February I have taken off work three days for the express purpose of working on the new house or getting the old house ready to sell. Each day was exciting and exhausting. The most exhausting aspect, aside from personally hand-selecting each and every inch of flooring and wall covering, is the letting go of what we know, what we are sure of. I am a “sure thing” kind of girl. I don’t gamble. I don’t take risks.
I haven’t gotten very far, either. I’m like the tortoise in the fabled race. Sloooooow and steady.
I have wanted to build a house for the past decade, plus some. I have not wanted the stress and the details of building, and I didn’t think we could really afford to build anyway, so I let it ride for years upon years. Until now. Now we realize that house ain’t gonna build itself. And we will never know what we can do until we try. So here we go. This is where it gets scary.
I really like the house we are in. I think my son’s room is too small for him to grow up in, and the master bathroom is too small for me and hubby to both use the mirror at the same time, but other than that I love my house. I love that I have created everything favorable about it. From the two “sitting rooms” as I call them, with their fancy crown molding, stellar baseboards and suede textured walls to the whimsical harlequin diamonds I painted on our daughter’s bedroom wall. I love the freshly painted den and the new “reading corner” my mom helped me create just this week. I love my new oven and my new dishwasher. I love my front flowerbeds with the wall of bricks that I spent all summer setting until it looked just right. I love the old nursery, which is now a catch-all room for everything we don’t want to deal with right away. I love the two walk-in attics. I love that this is the very first place my children entered when we left the hospital after each birth. I love the memories and the smells and the wide backyard. I love this house. As I pack it up and prepare it for someone else to love, I feel a little nostalgic and misty.
So I reach for the floor plans of the new house and gaze at the drawings of my children’s quality-sized bedrooms and the master bath where hubs and I will have OUR OWN sinks and mirrors. I foresee my kitchen, with an incredibly awesome island and gorgeous dark wood cabinets. I imagine the house, standing tall and proud under two large oaks with my kids skating around the driveway while the sun shines, our dogs wagging their tails as they run beside them. I think of that, and I cannot wait to see it.
So this “scary” will all be worth it very soon. It is not a mountain I have to conquer. It is myself.