The Light At The End…

I’ve been trying to write a sweet post about decorating with light for the past week. But the inauguration had me too sad for pretty word pictures.

I wanted to show how I used a combination of tealight candles, battery-operated candles and battery-operated Christmas lights to transform the dark end of my living room. I wrapped bright lights around the top of my decorative lighthouse and I like it so much, it will stay that way all year long. It seemed appropriate to create my own personal beacon.  Light is safety; it prevents bumps and bruises.  Light shows what things really look like; a truly lit object will show its details and flaws. 

It’s the combination of harsh LED lights, soft candlelight, incandescent household lights and slices of daylight that really makes it for me. From pesky wall without electrical outlets to instant ambience. I’m still wondering what the future will bring, but at least I’ll be able to see what it is.

I have yet to dismantle the little Christmas tree. Its simple white lights are soothing, each ornament has a loving back-story. As long as the tree is up, I can stall putting my gifts away. Am I delaying the inevitable full-on commitment to an uncertain new year?

Home must be a refuge. We use our strength and intelligence out in the world to handle our daily challenges. There should be one place in everyone’s life where we can be our true selves. It should look and smell pleasing, however you define that as. It should be an oppression-free zone, although any mother with a paying job  would laugh her ass of at that.

I anticipate struggle. I’m grateful for my home with the happy lighting.