A Cariad Life

When I was a little girl growing up in North Carolina, we lived in a big old house that although was charming was also very hot in the summer as we had no air conditioning at the time. Our home was surrounded by tall, leafy maple and pecan trees, and the maple trees in particular were perfect for climbing. Almost every summer afternoon when the heat and humidity would become unbearable, I would grab the novel I was reading, tuck it under my arm, and climb one of those trees to read in one of the wide branches. I would sit there for hours–a bit delighted that no one really knew where I was. Looking back now, it is amazing I didn’t fall out of the tree and break my arm–at the time, it was the perfect escape…reading, hidden away from the world, in a cool, shady space…these are my earliest memories of a budding love affair with quiet, hidden outdoor spaces.

Much later, when Darrell and I visited Paris for the first time, I was drawn to the doorways along the streets that had glimpses of long alley ways leading to hidden, shady courtyards–they were private and only for the residents–places to read, have a glass of wine and a light dinner, or just sit on a bench in solitude. It was so intriguing–there were these hidden private alcoves all over the city and they were created for rest and reflection for a select few…oh, to have a courtyard of one’s own!

When Darrell and I visited Repos in June, we arrived about 9pm–just after sunset. We had been traveling all day and had been awake for almost 24 hours–we didn’t even care about dinner; we just wanted a nice bed so we could finally rest. Paul, the innkeeper, could see that right away and graciously showed us our room, told us about breakfast, and promised to show us the entire B&B the next day. Even though I was exhausted, there was one place I wanted to see that night (even before the kitchen:) …the courtyard. Paul showed it to us–it was stunning in the dim twilight.

The courtyard is completely surrounded and very private with the garage to the south, the converted stables to the east, the adjoining townhouse to the north, and the B&B itself to the west. The windows of the B&B and the converted stables look out over the courtyard and wrought iron stairs lead to the upper loft apartment and then the third floor owner’s space, making the courtyard accessible to everyone. The entire space is covered in smooth flagstone with potted plants and flowers creating little alcoves where wooden and iron round tables with chairs are tucked away. On the west side is a solarium for growing plants, and the converted stables have an open covered space with a long table and bench for leisurely meals or an aperitif. Best of all is the sound…the courtyard has a fountain! Our own bedroom overlooked the courtyard, which was bathed in morning sun and then had lovely shade as the sun set on the west side of the B&B.

Darrell and I would eat breakfast out there in the morning and read or write in the late afternoon. This courtyard was that space I had sought as a little girl and had intrigued me in Paris… a quiet and private reprieve from the world around us. Paul commented that we looked perfectly at home there, and it did feel like home.

I’ve thought a lot about how these types of spaces are part of what makes “home” for us–spaces where we can rest, reflect, and connect with ourselves. I feel so blessed that the B&B we are buying, our home, has this space. I also know each of us can always find a space like this, though as I get older I will not be climbing a tree to have one! What is that space for you? It may be sitting out on a dock or a boat listening to the gentle waves, taking a drive with the windows open out in the country with miles of road ahead of you, sitting in a cafe’ or a bookstore tucked into a big comfy chair, or maybe walking through the woods.

These experiences and spaces have become so important for me as I pursue a Cariad life–a life where I am loved. They remind me that I am loved by God who provides these beautiful spaces and experiences. There is such kindness and a goodness in a God who cares about those spaces and provides them for us, isn’t there? I mean the first place He created for man and woman was a private garden, a place where they could connect with each other and nature and completely be themselves. I know that a Cariad life means I can show myself love by finding those spaces and taking the time to enjoy them–they are gifts to myself.