I’ve been living in the same house since 2004.
For years, I had no sense of permanency while living there.
The most blatant example of how I avoided any sense of permanency was my refusal to hang up the artwork. I feared of putting holes in the walls.
What else frightened me?
Making a mistake.
Metaphors galore on this discussion but I can say, the house didn’t feel like a home until he moved in. I let him put up the artwork that had been sitting on the floor leaning against the walls for years.
Holes in the walls and all…
I finally felt safe!
