Houses and Dreams

We met last night with the contractor who is building our new house.  We've been planning this house now for almost a year, and we put the project in motion when our offer on a gorgeous piece of land was accepted last March.  It's almost September - when we had initially hoped to move in to the new house - and we still haven't broken ground.  Every meeting that pushes that start date farther in the future makes me more anxious.

Of course, I'm much less pressured now that we're no longer at Middle Street.  Our current house - we call it Oakridge - is a palace compared to Middle Street.  We're all much happier here, but this was just intended to be another landing point on the path to the "new new new house" as my kids like to say.

Last night, though, when the contractor, Kim, came in with all the bids from his subcontractors, we realized we're going to have to spend a lot more money than we originally intended to build the new new new house.  Our meeting, which I had hoped would include scheduling a ground-breaking date, resulted in two and half hours of slashing this and deciding to hold off on that, and pushing the ground-breaking back to November, even entertaining the notion of waiting to break ground until spring.  I couldn't help but wonder, "Why are we doing this?"

I'm not one to invest this much energy into a house, and I am leery of the amount of precious time that will need to be invested throughout this next year - time that I might rather spend dancing or writing or tackling some other creative endeavor.  Can't we just consider staying where we are instead?  This is a beautiful house and a lovely neighborhood.  What's to be gained from moving yet again, other than a more convenient commute to work?

Just as I was drifting off to sleep last night, I answered that question as I remembered a dream I once had.  Or maybe I dreamed it again....  I was wandering through a huge house, barren and dark, where many rooms were cut off by tall, dusty iron gates.  I was alone in that house, and that house was me, at that time in my life.

Now, years later, I dream of a house filled with light and beauty, colorful rooms and wide-open spaces, beautiful gardens, and lush land where my kids can run and play.  This is who I am now, and it represents the abundant life I so gratefully share with my husband.

We need to build this home together, realize the dream that we share, even if it is a big investment.  Sure, we could just stay we we are and probably be satisfied.  But just being satisfied is not what makes up our dreams.  Not anymore.