The Essential Practice of Nesting
When I woke up this morning I felt a little disoriented. After spending the better part of the past month in a different state, surrounded by family and friends, my quiet apartment feels foreign.
The residue of our travels are present in every corner of the space. Clean dishes that were left to dry on the counter as we hurried out the door, bags in tow. Plants that desperately need a good watering and time in the sun. Half closed shades, blocking the light from filling the room.
And on the floor, the table, every spare surface - our belongings from the trip. Extra flowers from my brother’s wedding, a pile of mail, jackets thrown over the back of every chair.
I had planned on taking the morning slow, making a cup of tea, spending some time getting reacquainted with the stillness of our home.
But as I started to clear space for myself to sit, I found myself moving around the apartment, filling my arms with stray items and relocating them out of sight. I moved from one room to the next in a whirlwind, scooping up belongings here and there and shifting the landscape of the space.
In the past, spending my morning moments cleaning up the apartment would have been exhausting and frustrating. I have better things to do,I would tell myself, and yet I’d continue on, stuck in an endless trap of chores and to-dos. It would be easy to criticize myself for repeating such a familiar pattern this morning, spending my precious moments on what amounts to housework.
But this morning felt different. With so much time away, I was able to see my own space with a new perspective. And it was so clear to me that the space I was in was one of the past.
Things left undone before the trip, bags unpacked from our arrival back home. Projects unfinished, items discarded in every nook and cranny that felt convenient at the time.
Instead of starting my day in the ghosts of last months’ habits, it felt essential to start anew.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve felt the impacts of the space around me. When the rooms I inhabit are uncluttered, brightened with soft lightening, and peppered with beautiful things, I feel clearer and at peace. I am calm and present.
It would be easy to get frustrated with myself for getting caught up in the distraction of housework. Rather than give myself time to relax, I spent several hours of the morning cleaning, tidying, re-organizing. Lifting the blinds, dusting the coffee table, watering and moving plants.
But I realize today that what I needed to support my peace of mind was to do exactly that. To “nest”, as my mother would say, paying attention to all the small details that allow me to settle into my home. And to label this nesting as “busywork” would oversimplify the practice. Tending to a home, making a space your own, is a way to create your own reality. To match the internal with the external. Not to adjust to what is, but rather express the inner self in your surroundings.
And for me this morning, it was an intentional transition. Instead of trying to jump back into my daily routine with a context that didn’t match, I invested my time and energy creating a space that supports my own natural rhythms and who I am today, after a month of travel and adjusting to changing surroundings.
Self care so often is touted as quiet time, face masks and warm baths, journaling in nature. Those practices are and can be sacred time to be at peace with the self.
And at the same time, self care can be intentional, focused effort. Nesting is a practice of self care in setting the self up for success by creating a space that fosters creative energy, peace, and presence of mind.