Someone once asked me, what does the house of my dreams look like?
My first response was, the house of my dreams is a place that gives me a good emotional state, comfort, and safety.
Clearly, all these characteristics are purely subjective, and you might say that I am not describing how the house I want would look.
You would be right, but only partially, because safety can be expressed through many physical things.
Comfort as well.
Together, all these give you a positive state or not, so let’s move on to concrete things.
A perfect house for me means a well-organized place, where every object has its place and everything is arranged compactly.
A perfectionist trait, maybe a bit, but in some situations, it is a necessity and a way of protection and safety.
Why do I say this?
Because the arrangement of a room must be done in such a way that there is no risk of injury for a baby who moves more on their tummy than on their hands and feet, for an intoxicated person (we won’t say with what) who can only see doubles, or for a person with disabilities who can trip or lose balance, etc.
A well-organized home makes your life easier and more peaceful, even in a direct sense.
This way, you know exactly where to find a box of matches, you don’t have to wait 12 months to light the candles on your birthday cake for the current year because, what do you know, that’s how long it took you to discover the *ignition tools in a mountain of disorganized things. 😊 Plus, you stay sane.
And here we could tell many stories.
But a well-organized and compartmentalized house does not just imply order.
Yes, it also involves architecture.
Both inside and in the surroundings, whether you are in a yard or it is about the stairwell.
I wanted to say something else, but I remembered a time when I felt so bad, helpless, frustrated, I don’t even know how to describe the emotion of that time in words.
☹ Back when I was a student, I had a group of friends, among them, a college mate who used a wheelchair.
Many times, I would see most of them at my place, for coffee, wine, a game, it doesn’t even matter for what.
But I could never invite this friend in the wheelchair because I lived on the 5th floor and there was no elevator.
Yes, such things still exist in our century. 🙁
There were two alternatives, one, to meet somewhere else, but that would take away my pleasure of hosting guests.
Or besides this friend, I would need at least two other guests with muscles, 🙂 to help him up the 5 floors.
People are inventive.
And now, returning to the perfect house, it must allow me to treat everyone close to me equally.
What would you have done in my place?
How would you treat a dear person who is a wheelchair user when you don’t have the appropriate housing?
I look forward to your comments!
