At first, I thought I wanted a pool, and heaps of bedrooms, and two stories and a garden. But then I realised those were just the things I associated with a wealthy, rich home.
What I really want in my house is a meditation room. It doesn’t have to be big, but it has to be a spiritual place, facing the sun, where I can burn incense and have the colours of relaxation draped and painted throughout the room. Fresh, clean air, and a cupboard for yoga clothes and candles.
I want a lawn, fresh green and level (unlike anything we have here). Somewhere where a dog can play and bury bones and snooze in summer. Somewhere were I can set train in the martial arts, and meditate in warmer evenings.
I want a bedroom without a television or computer. Just a big, round bed, with ridiculously silky sheets in the summer, and warm, heavy blankets in the winter.
I want a clean bathroom, big or small, with an eco-friendly toilet, shower head and basin.
I’d like a small kitchen. Nothing fancy, but everything I need to attempt to cook: a fridge, a stove, an oven and a toaster. I’d try and resist the luxuries of a kettle, dishwasher and microwave, but maybe I’d cave in sooner or later.
I’d love a gaming room. A room with sound dampening walls, drapes that could blot out the sun and a massive TV or projector and a surround sound system. Very superfluous.
And there’d be no fences anywhere. Or if they were, they wouldn’t be
walls to block people out. It would be welcome to anyone until
nightfall, and then for friends and family.
And I’d love white windows, so wherever you are in the house (except for the gaming room when it’s being used), you can see you’re connected to the outside world. And any time you like, you can join the ebb and flow of life outside the home. But my dream home would be a retreat. A holiday, every day.
But of course these things cost money, and lots of it. And I know Ajahn Brahm is equally happy (if not much moreso) living in his cave. I’d like to think I could be too, but I don’t think I’m very good of letting go of possessions. It makes me feel guilty for even dreaming, but it’s nice to dream. Maybe some day.