Home
Recently, I filmed a very short video for my autoethnography. Usually, I use text and photographs. Filming the video of me simply walking through my home was inspired by a question from the Danish authorities. The question was, where are you domiciled? Where is my home?
This is my home. It is not fully mine. My partner and I rent this place, and it is a space where we met in the middle when it comes to our practice of sustainability. My preference would be to live without furniture as I lived in Finland. I wouldn't have some of the items we have. For example, not too long ago, my partner invited a smoothie blender into our home. I certainly could live without this device that uses much energy and is incredibly noisy. I wouldn't have any family heirlooms in my home either, nor would I have a screen for the balcony (it blocks much of the precious, magical, beautiful sunlight).
Yet, I love our home. It feels cosy and unpretentious. I observe that our guests generally feel comfortable here. It is obvious that everything is used and nothing is fragile. There is no expensive carpet that one is afraid to spill coffee or wine on. There are no fine glasses passed down to us from our grandparents that a child would be afraid of touching. When my partner's child is here, she runs around, jumps on our floor bed, spills food on the floor, takes clothes out of our closet. And that's ok.
Walking through my home reminds me of a question I got from a Finnish insurance company (it was compulsory to have home insurance for a rented place). They asked me if I wanted to insure my possessions. I smiled. There was nothing in my home. I slept on a yoga mat. All my kitchen items were inexpensive, borrowed from a friend. There was nothing that could not be replaced immediately, nothing that I would miss if it was taken away from me by nature or a fellow human.
In this home, there are no paintings, no jewellery. Nothing to be insured.
Recently my partner and I were talking about our one year of living together. I asked him what surprised him the most. Before we moved in together, we had spent time together in my home in Finland, in my home in Sweden and in various other places, but never lived together. He said it was my love towards taking care of my home. He believes that usually fellow humans hate cleaning, doing laundry, taking rubbish out. When we moved in together, we organically separated our so-called chores into what he would do and what I would do. But I have always noticed that while for him caring for our home was a chore, for me it has always been a means of relaxation and meditation. I think it has much to do with the way we live. It doesn't take much time to clean our home. It is small, and there are not many things living with us. Looking after a large home with many items would not be something I could enjoy.