Well, my friends, let me tell you a tale of showing the scars of actual history, of acknowledging what has been while turning towards what will be, and of using the remants of the old to make something new.

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Having moved into our new living room downstairs, we are transforming the old living room into a bedroom. This is the simplest small job in the very complicated large job, but it did require covering what was the door between kitchen and living room and patching a lot of plaster. The old plaster has a texture, and while Morgan is usually a perfectionist prone to spending too much time trying to get it just right, he has recent been heard saying, “Dying time is coming, I want to enjoy this house before I go.” Indeed. Plus, this little 1924 bungalow was never a fancy home; the original plaster work shows all kinds of funky lines and splotches, and it seemed silly to obsess over something we will mostly hide with furniture and art.

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Longtime readers may recall the hole in the floor that for a time was a direct shot to the outdoors. We assume there was some kind of heating system that it served before our time, but for us it had always been a dust bunny nest and place where small things gathered to be lost. A plywood patch has been adequately serving to fill the hole but it was time for integration. If I understand Morgan correctly, there is continuous fir flooring underneath whatever other surfaces we walk upon in this house, so he decided to take some from under the two layers of linoleum of the old kitchen/future bathroom where we won’t be needing it. The wood there has been covered for at least sixty years (based on that first layer of linoleum) if not longer, and was covered in a tarry substance, so it wasn’t going to look exactly the same without a lot of work or a stain job. There are also a couple of spots that got really beat up by a rolling chair and tons of dings and dashes in the existing floor that no amount of stain or work could really hide. We decided we are fine letting the patch stand out. There was a hole there, that happened. Life has been happening here, no obscuring that.

And life will continue to happen here, higher power of your choice willing. I am listening to a book by Steven Pinker right now called Enlightenment Now: The Case for Reason, Science, Humanism, and Progress. He reminds us that if the news were written over longer spans of time, say 50 years, rather than updated every single second of the day, it would be rather more upbeat. Morgan reminds me, however, that if we are complacent progress does not happen. Why change something if it feels to you like it’s working well enough? So here we are, looking for that sweet spot between enough information to stay engaged in the issues of our time and not so much that we shut down in overwhelm.

We didn’t tear this house down and start from scratch because we couldn’t pay that kind of price up front and would have had nowhere to live while rebuilding. We knew that it would be a slow and steady project, with long pauses and some pain. Nevertheless, I continue to see the usefulness of prying up the layers of linoleum and uncovering the sturdy wood below. I enjoy the reward of transformation that much more because I have put in the love and attention and held my vision for so long.

May we hold a collective vision of peace and abundance for all, may we see the humanity of those we disagree with, and may we find solid ground together from which to build a better tomorrow.