When our ideas stop flowing...

We’re renovating and our brand new, shiny (30+ year old, but new-to-us) house is now completely trashed. Carpet, tiles, almost every internal wall has been ripped out and we’ve basically created an entirely new building. Our very own Grand Design, if you will.

Kevin McCloud would be proud. (Actually, he’d probably be horrified at the way we’re going about it. Two creatives with access to YouTube, making it up as they go? It’s enough to scare the lines off those stripey shirts of his.)

It wasn’t always our plan to be quite so destructive. The weird laundry cupboard in the kitchen was going to stay and be repurposed as a glorious walk-in-pantry, until we discovered the water damage.

At first, it didn’t look too bad and then I could almost hear Kevin’s voice overhead like some kind of annoying designer angel: “The build grinds to a halt. Progress appears to be drowned…” Or something more poetically condescending as only he can deliver.

The water had gone through everything, the wood of the stud walls, the plaster board, and even under every single tile. The whole thing had to go. So, we smashed that too. Jackhammered up the concrete which had basically become black dust anyway—(yes, we were wearing super strong protective masks)—and then ground it all to a smooth new beginning. (It’s also meant we’ve redesigned the kitchen and even been able to make my son’s room bigger, so it worked out in the end.)

But, as I was grinding away and slowly losing feeling in my right hand, I allowed myself a bit of a philosophical moment: Water is a good thing, until there’s too much of it or until it has nowhere to flow. If it stays in the one place and stagnates, it gets gross. And perhaps it was the dust getting to my head but I couldn’t help but see a parallel to our creativity, our ideas.

Creativity flows to us and through us, out to others.

Unless we hoard it or hold onto it either because we’re afraid or unsure. Sometimes it keeps pouring into our Shiny Ideas Folders until they’re gross and mouldy because we have too many ideas and not enough action.

Just me?

The other thing I realised in this is just how destructive the process for a new beginning can be. Not always, but in some cases, new starts begin at the place of dismantling. We sometimes need to tear up old foundations (or perhaps old thinking?) in order to create anew and build on sound structures.

We could have ignored the damage I suppose, or just done the bare minimum to remove it. But how long would it be until the old found its way into any new additions? It would have undermined the new beauty we wanted to bring in.

AND the other thing that jumped out at me is the thing that breaks up the old gross stuff? Movement. Action. The ground is literally shaken.

Not exactly rocket science or anything groundbreaking. (Lol. Anyone?) But it got me thinking at least and wanted to share all the same.

If nothing else I guess it’s encouraging to be reminded that sometimes things look worse before they look better? Sometimes the new things on their way mean old stuff gets ripped up and that’s never easy but to keep taking action anyway.

Probably quite timely at the beginning of a brand new year too?

K

x

As a side note, I have also discovered this Giant Gummy Bear wallpaper and I’m seriously tempted to add it to my hallway. Yay/nay? Thoughts? Have the fumes just gone to my head?

*This post was written as part of an Iron Chef challenge in The Substack Soirée, meaning the whole thing was written and published within 50 minutes. Am adding this here as a disclaimer so I feel better about any imperfections, typos etcetera.