Realistic Expectations

I’m in the process of redecorating what used to be our homeschool room—into my office/study. I’ve been looking at pictures of home offices for ideas on paint color, furniture, accessories, etc. As I scan through the images of clutter-free desks surrounded by orderly bookshelves filled with coordinating hardbound books arranged by size, I’m tempted to buy into these unrealistic expectations. I could decorate my room to look picture-perfect, but then it would not be usable.

Realistically, I have to plan around some unsightly, yet practical things. I need a big, durable desk. I need storage space for all the office supplies. I have to arrange all the electronics around existing wall sockets, and there are tons of electric cords that need to be hidden. I need lots of broad spectrum white light since the windows face northwest. I want to be able to look out the window from my desk. I need a place for my friends to sit when they visit. I would like some furniture where I can put my feet up, lean back, and still be able to have books and supplies within my reach. My desk will be cluttered with books and paper and writing implements. The bookshelves will have books of all different sizes, spiral notebooks, paperwork, half-read magazines, coupon books, and duct-taped Bibles. There will be dust, cookie crumbs, and coffee spills. The floor will be strewn with dog toys and dog hair. I have to make space for a trash can, printer, shredder, pencil sharpener, 3 hole-puncher, clipboards, and a blood pressure monitor. (I like to leave mine out on my desk, so I remember to check my blood pressure after I’ve been sitting still for a while.) I’ve yet to see a blood pressure monitor incorporated into any pictures in decorating magazines. I need to have a realistic vision based on what this room will look like in six months.

Reality is seldom as appealing as our idealized visions; in fact, it is downright messy! We can either incorporate this fact into our plans or be disappointed in our inability to actualize our dreams. Beauty is fleeting, marriages grow stale, health deteriorates, careers become unfulfilling, friendships fade, wealth depreciates, and possessions lose their luster. I’m not suggesting that we passively accept entropy, but to expect it—make space for it when you lay out your plans; have containers ready to hold the inevitable mess. Realistic expectations allow for natural cycles of deterioration and regeneration; they impel us to unshackle our dreams from our happiness.