Dear Friends,
“See that?” the young engineer said, pointing to the wood floor joists above my head. “That’s your problem.” We were standing together in the basement of my 80 year-old home, and I had the feeling I was in for some not-so-good news.
In an attempt to analyze my home’s energy efficiency, it seems that the engineering firm uncovered a more pressing concern during their audit: we have mold in our basement. Not the scary, black kind that I would have easily recognized but, rather, a pale white version that I mistakenly attributed to aging and discoloration. This news was on top of recent visit from the plumber, who informed us that a major pipe in our yard would need to be replaced. And, it may be time for a new roof – or at least a patch job – as we felt drops of water hitting our heads in the kitchen as we were at the counter cutting vegetables.
I don’t consider myself a negligent homeowner in terms of maintenance and repairs, but it seems that this house of ours is crying out for some TLC . . . and an infusion of cash.
As Gail and I meet with roofers, plumbers and mold abatement experts, I am reminded of the PBS TV program “This Old House.” In the original series, Bob the host and Norm the carpenter used to meet up with Boston-area homeowners of modest old houses. In exchange for a little sweat equity, these homeowners would get expert help on restoring their aging bungalows back to their original glory (with modern-day conveniences added, of course).
I used to love watching those transformations each week. There’s something about witnessing a before and after project that is inspiring. Of course, the cosmetic changes were the most appealing part of the show for me, not the work on the under-the-hood stuff like attics, pipes and basements that no one sees. Yet, I’m reminded with my own old house that anything and everything – houses, people, relationships, lives – need regular care and, sometimes, a complete restoration.
This, too, can mean starting with the under-the-hood work. I may need to tend to my spiritual and emotional well-being first . . . those things that no one else can see, but form the foundation of a well-lived life . . . in order to be more fully and joyfully engaged in the outer demands of my life. For me, this involves regular quiet time in the morning, participating in a support group, walks with my dog, listening to music I love, and other things that help me connect to that deep place within.
Zen Buddhist monk T’hich N’hat Hahn wrote, “Let us be at peace with our bodies and our minds. Let us return to ourselves and become wholly ourselves.” Just as my old house needs to be repaired from time to time to be restored to wholeness, so do I. May the maintenance begin . . . and may my home and my heart find peace.
Warmly,
Terry
Rev. Terry Davis
