The House Rescued Me
Erica was attending classes monthly for her doctorate, running a full time professional practice, and dashing from one basketball practice to another for her two teenage sons. For three years the six-hour drives from northern California to Santa Barbara provided a sort of respite from this constant shifting of gears from studying student, to attentive professional, to cook, to driver, to cheerleader, to laundress, to bill-payer and so on.
Erica’s marriage had crumbled just prior to her embarkation in to her doctoral program. The house she lived in with her husband and sons, and now resided in, needed more and more attention. There were the minor repairs required of all homes, but as the years went by, she faced larger and pricier repairs: the roof needed to be replaced, the carport supports had to be reconstructed, and the decking required reinforcement and new boards.
There was clearly a connection between what was happening with her home and her psyche. Erica felt increasingly vulnerable due to the lack of emotional and financial support by her ex-husband and demands of being a single parent to two energetic growing teens. There was no one there to cover her when she needed to be in two places at once. Daily life felt crushing.
In her book, House as Mirror of Self, Claire Cooper Marcus (1995) contends that “our psychological development is punctuated not only by relationships with people, but also by close, affective ties with our physical environment.” She notes that, “We create our immediate environment and then contemplate it and are worked on by it. We find ourselves mirrored in it, see what had been not yet visible, and integrate the reflection back into our sense of self.”
Erica’s house mirrored her life: like the roof that didn’t protect her from the elements, she had no spouse, extended family, or financial cushion to protect her from life’s exigencies. Each day was plagued by uncertainty like her deck which did not provide firm footing. Her schedule was crushing just like the carport that was crushed as a result of a freak accident. She wept that her house had become her adversary, draining her, testing her constantly, for she lacked the time and financial wherewithal to attend to its many needs.
But, the house also mirrored the sea change she was undergoing at the midpoint of her life: the status quo needed to change for there was something new awaiting Erica. She surrendered to the collapsing structures in her home as she surrendered her old way of being in the world as the prelude to her incarnation as a scholar, leader of women, and artist – reluctantly as most of us do. The reward was great. She became crystal clear about what she wanted in a partner. She recognized her inner fortitude and gifts as a mother and practitioner. Erica Self structure changed as her house changed.
It’s been five years since Erica’s house troubles began. She has a new roof, a re-designed deck that affords her inspired views, and a re-done carport and entryway into her home. She’s finished her doctorate and is planning her future work as a scholar, while she takes a week-long break with her sons on the beach in Hawaii. Finances are still an issue, but she has made peace with what she has and no longer feels paralyzed with the fear of destitution. Her uncertainty rests on firmer footing and her view is promising.
Erica believes her life changed because the house became ill for her, symbolically communicating the drastic unwanted changes in her life that could have otherwise shown up in the form of illness. She says of it, “The house rescued me.”
© 2006 Katherine Grace Morris, PhD