Monday, December 23, 2013


Chatted with a good friend today. We talked about our attempts to de-stress. We talked about how some of the stress we experience is self induced through the pressure we put on ourselves to be perfect.

I was reminded of this tonight while leafing through a shelter magazine. I've been reading about interior design so long, have followed the same magazines for so long, that it makes sense that not every single room featured is hotel perfect. They'd have run out of rooms long ago sticking only to those. I can look at most rooms and pick out the painting one person wouldn't like and the rug another person would criticize, yet these rooms were chosen to be featured in a magazine.

So, then, why am I worried about presenting a perfect home to visitors (or even, worried about presenting a perfect home to my own little eye)?

I do okay.  Not perfect, but a beautiful home is the sum of it's parts and the joy of it's inhabitants.

Remembering that will be my little Christmas present to myself. Wrapped up under my imperfectly beautiful Christmas tree.

1 comment:

Katie @ On the Banks of Squaw Creek said...

Love that comment: a beautiful home is the sun of its parts and joy of its inhabitants.