This is the current state of our kitchen.
The unneeded wall has been removed from above the cabinets. The counters have been cleared for granite measurements (Yes, except for the coffeepot. We’re not sadists.) and the new cabinet doors are being constructed offsite.
Yet apart for a few material samples and copious quantities of paperwork piled on the adjacent bar top, there is little in the space that hints of the kitchen that is to come.
I’ve measured out the spot to where the new counter will extend, adding a breakfast bar. And I’ve overlaid the selected granite with the new stain for the floor and the proposed paint samples for the walls. I’ve visualized the new spice rack and even practiced the new dance steps needed to season something on the stove. I’ve mentally removed the old ceiling fan and smoothed over the defects in the drywall in my mind’s eye.
Sometimes, I think I have a true picture of what it will look like. But then, just as easily, it fades, leaving only the current sad and damaged state in my sight. Along with the sinking feeling that how it is now is how it will always be.
And that’s so often the case, isn’t it? We struggle to see what is not yet there. We fixate on the details of what is rather than visualize the dream of what can be.
Over the next few weeks, as my counters are ripped off and my cabinets are sanded down, it will be easy to get frustrated with the seemingly endless mess, unexpected expenses and inconvenience of living in a construction site.
But often things have to get worse before they can get better. We have to make some messes and remove some things that no longer serve in order to build up what we want.
And we have to be able to see what isn’t yet there.
Trust in our instincts and in the process.
And believe that the vision we hold can be made real.
Even if we cannot always see it clearly.