Picture: Lina Östling
In NL3 Magazine:
Words by Kristofer e Söderlund:
I was constantly looking for a new place, an expensive place that had elegant architecture; I told myself I would live in a high-class mansion with iron cast fencing that lined the edge of a bedroom balcony, overlooking the ocean. Every morning I would meander out of bed and let that vast horizon line tempt me into adventures to exotic and far off lands. This would be the place I would call home. My parents always encouraged me to dream big, but to never forget my homegrown roots. But sure enough, once I left my childhood home behind and began embarking on my own journey, duffle bags in hand, the person I had known started slipping away. Despite the happiness that surrounded my new life, there was a saddened yearning wrenching inside me. Finally I needed to return home, not by the definition that I had come to know, but the one that I had forgotten.
At first, I was unsure about how to feel as my car raced down the winding roads, lined with overhanding trees and streets populated with familiar buildings and friendly smiles. This place had always beamed an aura of positivity and good heartedness. Every turn brought memories of my youth flooding back like a tidal wave crashing onto sun-kissed shores. My heart beating faster as I got closer to the last house on the street. And then, there it was, like nothing had changed. The same color paneling, roofing, and shudder. However, the trees were a bit taller, but that one long crack in the driveway remained. How I missed this place. I walked in the front door, paused, and heard nothing. Just as it had always been. Serene. I began to feel all of the broken parts of me starting to heal.
While most of us since last year have been bunkered down at home the world has changed – there is no denying it. Some of it good; some of it bad. But with this shift comes an opportunity for all of us to change a little too, even if only a shift in perspective. While we’ve been unable to move in the outside world, our inner sanctuaries have been teaching us new things, reminding us of what we had forgotten, and subtly (or not so subtly) shifting our outlook. Whether big or small, these changes have most likely occurred in the shelter, comfort and sanctuary of home. A place that has never been more significant than now, and a place I have never felt more privileged to have. Let your home be the place to keep you safe, fill you up and comfort you through all the uncertainty – let your home teach you, and even change you a little.
Words Elise Boreham