Summer is coming, and once again, I find myself standing between two worlds.
On one side, there is the dream ā always evolving, always inviting me to take the next step. Another improvement. Another idea. Another small change that will make the house even more beautiful, more welcoming, more complete (if one can ever truly call it that).
On the other sideā¦ there is this moment.
The sunlight on the terrace. The quiet mornings with coffee and the sea breeze. The laughter of the children in the garden.
And I wonder:
Do I pause and enjoy what already exists? Or do I keep going, chasing what this place could become?
Because the truth isā¦ this house has been built not just with materials, but with time, energy, and countless decisions. Every summer so far has carried a checklist ā meetings with workers, plans, improvements, ājust one more project.ā
But this summer feels different.
This year, I feel a strong need to simply be here. To experience the house as it is ā not as a project, but as a home.
And Iām not the only one.
The family has made a gentle (but very clear) request:āDo we always have to stay home waiting for the next worker to finish?ā
And theyāre right.
Maybe not every summer needs to be about fixing, building, improving. Maybe some summers are meant for living.
For long, slow evenings. For spontaneous swims. For doingā¦ absolutely nothing.
So this year, Iām trying something new:āØ Fewer appointments with workers āØ Fewer āurgent improvementsā āØ More presence, more joy, more life
The dream is still there ā itās part of me, and it always will be. But maybe the dream is not only about what this house could becomeā¦
Maybe itās also about what we can experience here, right now.
And this summer, I choose to pause ā just a little ā and enjoy it.