Legos and Playmobil are splattered across the downstairs floor, sound effects bouncing off of the walls. Another sits calmly, reading in the midst of the action. Math links and Base Ten blocks are scattered over the school room floor, a village is going up. And yet another sits quietly solving two-digit addition problems with Chopin playing in the background.
There are remnants of our day throughout this house and as much as I'd like to keep up on the mess, I'm finding there is a difference between staging and living. Because staging is how we want our life to appear, whereas living is jumping in and creating it. Another day, another hour might look a little different, but active none-the-less–active bodies, active minds, active emotions and I couldn't live this way before.
But this is different. Because I'm right here in the mess with these four children and when you're in it rather than observing it, the mess becomes art–beautiful, creative and peaceful.
We are creating art together in this home, splattering colors and textures of our unique blends.
And as an artist is not put off by messy remnants of his work while splattering paint on a canvas–I cannot be put off by the messy remnants of our ultimate vision.
When we walk into a room noticing only the mess, we miss the masterpiece.