I had this great plan to start sharing a kitchen series with you this week, to show you the rest of the space and talk about storage, meal prepping, and fun things I’ve discovered about working with an old-school granny kitchen. It was going to be funny, light-hearted, and a little nostalgic at points – a perfect complement to the back-to-school season. It also was going to allow me more time to play around with lighting options on the balcony. In a few weeks, you’d get a seasonal twist on the urban grandma aesthetic! But, life happened pretty hard this last week and a half, as it sometimes does. When I sat down to write about retro kitchen shenanigans, the words just wouldn’t come. Instead, I’d like to talk about what I mean when I say I’m creating a “haven,” and why it’s become so important to me.

The word “haven” implies a space apart. There’s also a certain amount of quiet or solitude involved. I happen to live in a densely packed city, which means all of those qualities are difficult to find individually. To find them all in one place is practically unheard of! But as much as I love the activity and connectedness of the city, my mind, body, and soul need that separation, that solitude. Without it, the constant noise of work, neighbors, and other people’s thoughts and needs becomes so loud that I lose the ability to hear myself. I become so overwhelmed by outside disturbances and the constant pinging of my phone that I lose touch with my physical, mental, and other needs. Follow that pattern for long enough, and I find myself burnt out on almost every level.

Creating a haven in my apartment means creating a space that is separate from the outside world and embraces quiet in all its forms. Outside disturbances will be muffled through a carefully planned garden with strategic screening. Technology will of course be present in the home, but TV, computers, and phones will not be made the focal point of each room. Devices will have their place, with careful parameters on notification settings to avoid unnecessary pings. I am designing the entire home to feel separate from the rest of the world and create a cozy kind of solitude. By giving myself room to breathe, my goal is to get back in touch with myself and become better at recognizing my own needs.

The term “haven” also implies a space for rest and healing. I love what I do and I am blessed to have wonderful friends and family, but I also can’t deny that more often than not, I come home feeling utterly drained. It’s the kind of tired that seeps through your bones and into your soul, like you’ve overdrawn a bank account and still have a month’s worth of incoming bills. The kind of tired with no end in sight. For my own sake, as well as the people who depend on me, I’ve got to find a way to recharge.

In addition to creating a literal quiet space, I need to make my home both comfortable and beautiful. Comfortable furniture and air purifying plants allow my body to rest and recuperate, while (tasteful) minimalist storage and eye-catching art refresh my mind and spirit. I enjoy a juicy intellectual dilemma as much as the next person, but sometimes the brain needs to not work so hard! Entering a home without visual clutter, sitting down in a soft, supportive chair, and looking at simple, joy-sparking art is exactly what an overtaxed body, mind, and spirit needs.

Another element of the term “haven” implies sanctuary, a place of protection or safety. Something I’ve noticed recently is that even though I live alone, I often carry my work persona back home with me. Stuck in “professional mode” all the time, I don’t often feel the sense of safety or ease that a person ought to feel behind their own closed doors. I realized last night that I need to make this home a space where I can be a little bit of a weirdo. Sometimes it’s important to spend time playing in the dirt or attacking a large fruit like a little creature. Giving myself permission to interact with natural things without always thinking about what is proper is an important skill I appear to have lost.

To repair that loss, I’ve decided to A)put up privacy screens to help with that self-consciousness and B)streamline storage and maintenance so that it’s easy to clean up after gremlin time. I am also making a point of spending at least a few minutes on the balcony each day to observe the flora and fauna around me. I’m getting to know our local lizards, bats, and trees. The other day, I also met a couple of deer that decided to call the neighborhood home! My hope is that by spending time observing the natural world around me, it will be easier to notice my own internal responses to changing seasons.

Overall, I need to make this life change to preserve my sanity and try to regain my health. My hope is that by making little changes each day, I will build a haven (in every sense of the word) that fosters that recovery. As I share new projects, these are the guiding principles that underline each one. If any of these elements resonate with you, I hope my journaling helps inspire you to make some changes for yourself!