Living in Kingsport at home with my family, I remember the habits I had, the spaces I claimed to make a household of four have space for my own habitation. I had a number of small comforts that expressed myself and helped me develop into the person I am today. We had a swing in the backyard that had a cover over it. I would take books out there in the summer and read for hours. Eventually I would drift off to sleep, warm and safe from sunburn. In the cooler weather, the living room (one of the only rooms without a TV) became my reading and napping place.
As I got older, staying up until 3 am while watching rock music videos and chatting with friends online was an escape from my angst. While I was ready to move out and get ready for college, I had these spaces and habits to make my own “home” space while living with three other people.
I loved libraries and movie rental stores. Libraries felt secretive and magical. Somehow the quiet and the whispers made the space more exciting. It felt like something was waiting around the corner. Typically,these things were hidden in the books, and the hunt was on to find them. Maybe that’s why I would reach my maximum check-out limit of 25 books on most of my visits there. At movie rental stores there was a thrill in the air as my love for horror movies grew. Mom and I would rent scary movies to watch on school breaks, and my interest has only evolved from there.
My small comforts shifted when I moved out of the house and into college. My love for coffee began at this time. I drank so much of it to stay up late for studying and writing that I realized I could drink it black (I still like it plenty sweet though!) I would also spend the weekends at Andy’s house watching hours of Criminal Minds, Ghost Adventures, and other spooky shows. I realized how much I loved walking when Andy and I would walk around his friendly, hilly neighborhood every weekend, even when the weather turned cold. It had become such a habit that this is how Andy decided to propose to me: in the middle of our Sunday walk. I fell in love with my home church, Glade Springs Pres where I sang in choir and made friends with the choir members. And, of course, King itself had places where I was comforted and felt at home: Tadlock, the FAB, Hyde, and the chapel.
When Andy and I moved into our first apartment, we had a magical back porch, which became the focal point of my small comfort. I would sit with books, coffee, and music as I watched the dozens of hummingbirds flit to and fro and listen to the creek babble at the edge of the backyard. It was a very sweet place where I could hide from the world.
At seminary, my small comforts were the library and the “couch” room. Both offered a place to study. The library is where I would hunker down with commentaries and music in my earphones. It’s where I really got a lot of work done. The couch room was my home away from home. I would nap here, study here, eat lunch here, and sometimes even watch television here. When I had a few hours in between classes, this is where I would get settled. It became such a special place that when last year’s tropical storm hit and our apartment was without electricity for 3 days, Andy and I holed up in the couch room where we could have internet and watch TV. While in seminary I realized how much I loved scented candles. I always had one burning, reflecting the season of the year. I wanted my home to smell lovely. Andy and I continued our walking tradition around the neighborhood surrounding Columbia. We especially enjoyed the decorations on these homes during Halloween and Christmas.
Now I have the small comforts transported to our home here in Florida. The sun room is my space, where I keep my art supplies and read my books. On Saturdays I watch horror movies, light scented candles (soy candles that are safe for our cat; the others that I had been burning ended up making him sick), drinking coffee, and leisure reading. Andy and I walk on the beach 4-5 times a week. It’s amazing how little habits, small comforts develop over a period of time. It’s easy to forget who you are and lose yourself to your work and to the stress of the day to day. But I’m glad to have retained my propensity to find home-y space to read and nap, find places to enjoy my coffee and scented candles, find time to watch horror movies, and find routes to enjoy walking with my husband. These small comforts are just little parts of what define me, knowing that what I do and who I am are two different things.