I’ve moved a lot in my life. It started young, as a 10-year-old, before I had any real say in it, and I’ve self-therapized this fact later in life enough to come to the conclusion that it did indeed having an impact on my adult life. Thinking about it more deeply, as an only child of immigrants and refugees, multiple generations down, I think it might speak to something deeper, too.
This is not that essay, though.
I’ve grown fond of the rituals behind inhabiting new spaces, partly because I’ve had to, but partly because I do enjoy the process of becoming more intimate with a space, as well. It’s calming. Light hits differently depending on where you are in the world, light hits differently depending on where you are in the room, the time of day, how you’ve oriented the objects in the room that re-orient light, if there’s a curtain, if there isn’t. All of the details that add to light.
Recently, it’s been sweet to write down some of these practices and ask myself what are the rituals we (or I) take to familiarize myself in a new environment. I’ve found that the rituals of homemaking or homesteading or nesting or grounding to be am ongoing, stabilizing agent in my life, no matter where I might be
This might be all one way to say that home is where the heart is, and these are rituals to grounding your heart in a new space.
Rituals for inhabiting a new space: