The key to my heart

A standard door key, my house key and the key to my office.

I searched for a poem that might encapsulate my feelings, expressing in the most condensed fashion the breathe and depth of my emotions. I wanted a few swift, powerful, concise lines of rhythm that conveyed with the punch and verve all that I felt and all that has transpired, conspired and inspired me during the process of building my house. This is my dream house. This is a house I have been imagining in my head for years. The most apropos thing, the ultimate symbol of what matters to me – what truly matters most – is that my home, the place where I live and love should be more important than where I work. The keys to these two places appropriately convey this. My house key is larger than my office key and both are larger than an ordinary door key. Plus, the house key has style and originality. Just like me.

I am unorthodox. I am unconventional, an original. I do things differently. I live by my own tune, my own rhythm. I forge my own path. I don’t follow the ordinary or the common. Sometimes the path I choose is rougher, narrower, less well-traveled and sometimes unmarked. Sometimes I am hacking through the undergrowth with a machete. I do things my own way. It is not always the easy way.

And I know that my home reflects that part of my nature. It is open and full of light. The ceilings soar. Every space is practical and useful but beautiful. The entire space is organic and engages all of your senses. It allows for my children to define themselves, grow in their own way, expand into themselves with freedom AND security. It allows us to spend quality time together and to also have our own identities without feeling detached or confined.

Simply, we now finally have a home.

 

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