Living Well, A Description

It's not about the square footage of your house, or how old or new it is. But, it's about how you live in it, and how it responds to you. It's not about living more or living less, but it's that certain sweet spot of living well. Living well is beautiful and appointed, but also laid back and comfortable, welcoming the imprint of life.

In other words, maybe this:

It's staying in for dinner, but going out for dessert. It’s rain on a tin roof. It’s bringing your own mug with a hot beverage inside. It’s choosing to borrow; it’s choosing to buy. It's crab legs from the delicatessen, eaten with chunks of fresh baguette over a paper-lined table. It’s supporting someone who crafts something for you; it’s making your own. It’s local honey. It’s picking blooms from the wild flower market; it’s buying a blooming plant from the best nursery in town. It's a commissioned art piece. It’s using fresh herbs in humble bean soup. It’s a handwritten note. It’s freshly cracked pepper. It’s local eggs.

It’s elegant; it’s earthy. It’s a stroll through a museum, slowly. It’s a silk chiffon blouse over faded denim jeans. It’s a not-new car that’s kept as if it was. It’s owning fewer, finer things. It’s a clear glass of water with ice floating on top. It’s the warmth of sunshine after so many stormy days. It's a silver spoon in the sugar bowl. It’s chives in the garden, poking up through late-spring snow. It’s linen napkins. It’s a dog with slippers in her mouth. It’s a single down throw pillow in a quietly exquisite fabric. It’s wearing your grandmother’s pearls on a weekday.

Now I'm curious. How would you describe living well?