Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Appraisal: A Reflection on Spiritual Sustainability



"Life itself is the proper binge." ~ Julia Child

About a month ago we had to get an appraisal on our home for a new loan. After setting up the appointment, I walked around my condo with the cold eye of an appraiser. It was a sobering experience. Allow me to take you on that walk. 


Entering the front door you are immediately greeted by a full book case and a shoe rack that is cluttered with – shoes, yes – but also backpacks, sweatshirts, dirty socks, bike helmets, random school assignments, and other items in no way related to footwear.


Turning left into the living room, your eye will be drawn to the 1970s era open staircase with black wrought iron railing and worn carpeted steps. There are popcorn ceilings and tile floors. You'll notice that the walls are a drab white and in need of new paint. The living room might generously be described as cozy, and the couch is clearly where the two teenagers who live here spend the bulk of their time. Computers, game controllers and textbooks cover every surface, even those meant for sitting on.


We'll make a quick stop in the "guest" bathroom with its temperamental plumbing. Then, just off the bathroom, we'll peek in the laundry room, which we like to call "the room of requirement." Harry Potter fans will know what I mean. Whatever you're looking for, if you dig around enough, you're likely to find it here. You can do your laundry in here, but you'll also find toilet-paper, dog food, cat litter, a small tool box, a crock pot, kick boards for the pool, computer paper, and a large box of brownie mix among other things.


On to the dining room and kitchen, the heart of the home. As a real estate appraiser, you'll want to check the kitchen appliances. You'll quickly discover that none of them work properly. The refrigerator drips water (which we collect in a bowl and use to water plants); the dishwasher hasn't worked in years; and the oven struggles to bake a batch of cookies. The cabinets are stained a dreary dark brown and look old and worn. The dining room is more of a multi-purpose room really, with a small desk, a piano, and a large bookcase. Paper tends to congregate and multiply here.


I'm not going to take you upstairs. The bedrooms are where we REALLY let it all hang out, and you would need protective gear to enter the kids bathroom. Let's just sit in the dining room awhile. Pull up a chair. I'll put on some coffee.


So what do you think this home is worth? If you're looking at it with the cold eye of a real estate appraiser, you're going to say it's below market value. There's a lot of deferred maintenance here. When we get this new loan, my partner and I plan to start investing in repairs and paint, upgrades and cosmetic improvements. But right now this is our home. We live here everyday with our popcorn ceiling and our bad plumbing. Our lives are not on hold, waiting for new kitchen appliances and bathroom fixtures to begin. 


***
Last week, my minister asked us all to think of one object in our houses that epitomizes home for us. I chose my dining room table, where you and I sit now with our coffee. My table is made from recycled pine with a wax finish. It's got gouges and stains. There are little paint spatters from old art projects, and dime sized circles of candle wax next to the chalice we made at a church family night some years back. 


A lot of life has happened around this table: Besides the hundreds of family meals we have eaten here, it has been the place where Easter eggs are dyed and Christmas cookies are decorated; science fair projects have been conducted and written up here. Bills are paid at this table and homework happens here. Lively political debates have taken place and board games played with spirited competitiveness. Countless works of art have been created on this surface. And I have written blog posts and reflections, and consumed a lot of coffee at this table. 


My children made their case for getting a dog around this table. And it is where they learned their parents were getting divorced. Tears have been shed at this table, and laughter has bounced off the walls of this room. Arguments have ensued and been resolved here. Saturday morning Sabbath french toast is eaten here, and music is often in the air. – Friends and family regularly gather at this table to share food and the good company of each other.


What is this home worth? As exciting as the prospect of new appliances, fresh paint, and a remodeled kitchen are, they are not what makes this home sustainable. A shiny new stove is not the taste of a home cooked meal and the sound of lively dinner conversation. A beautifully tiled bathroom is not the the invigorating feeling of a morning shower. Brightly painted walls and pop-corn free ceilings are not the blessing of shelter on a hot day or a rainy night. And a perfectly placed piece of art cannot compare with the beauty of a rich family life – with its bright spots and rough edges – lived here every day. This is what sustains us. And this what is sustainable.