“Happiness doesn’t lie in conspicuous consumption and the relentless amassing of useless crap. Happiness lies in the person sitting beside you and your ability to talk to them. Happiness is clear-headed human interaction and empathy. Happiness is home. And home is not a house – home is a mythological conceit. It is a state of mind. A place of communion and unconditional love. It is where, when you cross its threshold, you finally feel at peace.”
Having said this, some meaningful possession can enhance a home, but are not necessary either when you really think of it, and it is the people that fill the home that really make it a precious place. All the same, like my mother before me I like the little corners of our home that give that special feeling of authenticity. They are often the simple things. An old jug, a goose egg, some blue and white cups and saucers, plenty of treasured books, a sculpture that a friend made, some wild flowers, a treasured icon from Naxos island, stones picked up here and there, and on and on it goes. And then to know that I am a minimalist in every bone of my body, but it’s the little things that give pleasure or make the place feel like home, or give that certain stamp on things that says, this is me, this is my home, and here I can express myself freely. All the time realising how lucky we are to have a roof over our heads with so very many people homeless. I know that it is not good to be attached to ‘things’, many people have shared wise words about his, I agree and recently read these wise words;
I will be out of action for the next few days as will be away. So wishing my dear friends and followers a good weekend, and catch up later on next week.