We are in the process of redoing our living room and kitchen. While we've made some cosmetic changes to the LR, including new furniture, the biggest change left is the fireplace wall. We want to replace the wood-burning fireplace with a gas insert. We can't use the fireplace right now because of a flue issue. If only the plumber would call us back to run the gas line. The mantel will also get an update with slate--at least, that's how we are thinking right now.
The kitchen will see the most changes: cabinet refacing, counter, backsplash, lighting, wall color and floor. It's dated (1984 for most objects) and really needs a facelift.
All these changes require decisions. Today we ordered the tile for the entryway. What material did we want? What color? Polished or not? What size tile? What pattern to lay it in? How wide the grout lines? What color grout?
This process of decision-making has been going on for the past few years as we gathered ideas for the makeover. We've changed our minds many times, especially over the backsplash tile. New materials and products come to the market all the time.
This made me realize that life is very much like this. We are always making decisions throughout our day, always readjusting as new information comes to light, always moving on to the next question.
At first, this remodeling process seemed overwhelming. Sometimes it still does, but we've reached a point where we have more answers now than questions. In life, if we live an examined life, I would hope that we reach a point of knowing ourselves better, of not second-guessing ourselves as much, of confidence in our choices.
At some point, we reach a place in our decision-making of "yes, this is right for now." Then we have to let it go and move on. In six months, we might make a different choice, but we can only choose in the now moment. Today we chose the entryway tile--and we are going to live with that choice for a long time, knowing it was the best decision we could make today.
It doesn't matter what others think of our choices. This is our house, our lives, and we have made the decisions in them. We will live with the consequences in them. We will delight in the pleasures of them, too.
Someday when I walk on my new entryway, I will remember an afternoon spent at the tile shop, playing with different layout options on the floor. I will remember choices made, then let go. I will remember listening to my husband's suggestions and he listening to mine. I will remember the satisfaction of saying, "Yes, this is it!"
The order is in. The decision is made. The consequences are coming, yet so are the pleasures of seeing the fruits of our labors, seeing our vision made manifest. One decision at a time, we build our home. One decision at a time, we build our lives. Choose well, then let it go.
