On Tuesday I painted my bathroom. This winter we celebrated two years in our home and my bathroom walls have seen five different paint colors (not to mention the two colors in our one year apartment). I guess you could call it a biannual tradition or something.
I don't know if it's that our bathrooms have been the size of coat closets, making them a very non-threatening canvas when I'm feeling inspired by an HGTV show...or maybe the fact that in the past I've seen paint samples as a waste of time. But my failed attempts at "tranquility" and "ocean bliss," (try "pastel green 80s beach house" and "dark navy like a narwhal") have surrendered to boring toasty gray (aka. tan), and Brent would like me to keep it that way.
I remember Christmas Day two months before I got engaged. Brent and I had the marriage conversation, so I knew what was coming and that this could quite possibly be the last Christmas in my parents home. Being the nostalgic soul that I am, I took crying breaks every 45 minutes the entire day. Sprawled out on my polka-dotted comforter, hugging my favorite aqua pillow with the missing button (which I still have because some things just cannot change) I mourned the loss of what I knew. Change means loss of control. Unfortunately, I love control.
But life rarely plays out as that unchanging, stable & permanent plan that seems so practical in our minds. We set goals based on relationships that do not break, homes that are forever, health that maintains, and sunshine-filled days. Rarely do we plan for seasons, but rather the idealistic picture of one season, OUR season.
At the same time, change can bring beauty that we do not account for. If I had stayed curled up in my **Pottery Barn Teen inspired** bedroom (so fab) I may have felt safe and happy, but I would have missed out on this beautiful life that Brent and I get to live together. It is most likely that, even if you love where you are now, change has led you there.
Erin Loechner writes in her book Chasing Slow,
Life ebs & flows. For the good and the bad, it is not stagnant and it is not permanent. Choosing to embrace the "come & go" is an art. One I haven't quite mastered. This afternoon, sprawled across my new and improved white down comforter, I spent some time jotting the changes in my life that have been turning points for good. As I wrote I wondered- would any of us really want a black & white existence? One with no color (change) to mark our worlds? This color is a reminder in the hard times that good is coming, a reminder in the good times that there is even better! To live in anticipation of change rather than in fear is a great and worthy goal.
I don't know about you, but I am so incredibly thankful that life is like my bathroom.
**And that my bathroom is no longer sunshine yellow. I forgot to mention that one.**