Nesting Instinct

Give me two or more days in a location and I’ll make a nest. Always comfortable and preferably with a view.

I define a nest as a place you burrow into once out of bed. But a bed can be a nest, especially if you are in a hotel. In fact, 40 years ago when my home was overrun with children, my bed was my nest. No, not in that way, although now that I’ve said it, I can definitely see myself with my brood in the nest of my bed. But it’s the alone time I’m talking about. The place to retreat to. My bed was my refuge during those years when the constant clatter of kids was just too much.

Now my nest is my kitchen table. I grew up with a kitchen table. It was always a comforting place to be. Our family of four ate all our meals there, even though a dining room was on the other side of the wall. I did my homework at that table. I was home sick, sitting there when I heard on the radio that Kennedy had been shot, and my grandmother, returning from the grocery store, came running up the basement stairs to see why I was sobbing. My mother loved to offer my boyfriend 2nd and 3rd helpings when he came over for dinner at that same table. (54 years of marriage, and he still has 2nd and 3rd helpings every night. Thankfully, he’s still fit and trim.)

Our apartments and houses didn’t have space for a kitchen table, and with the family growing to six kids, we would have outgrown it anyway. When we moved to our present “empty-nest” home, the seller left us a 40” round kitchen table and a cozy upholstered banquette. I immediately began nesting, which included the added bonus of an unobstructed view of the woods outside the kitchen doors and the wildlife that frequents our yard.

It is where I start my day, have lunch, dinner, and after-dinner card games. I also use the table to set up cyanotype prints, stitch, or work in my journals during the day.

That round table was nearly perfect. After we’d been here eight years, I decided I needed a bigger kitchen table, specifically one with drawers, so I could stay neat and organized with everything at hand. It took a year to find just the right one. Perfect size, perfect drawers, perfect condition, perfect nest.

I call it my nest. My husband calls it my command center. Come to think of it, that’s not too far off. A nesting instinct is a desire for control, comfort, and security. It’s a place to feel at home, a place to relax, a point of reference. I come here to center and recenter myself during the day. I don’t need a nest for nurturing offspring anymore; I am nurturing myself.

Are you a nester? Do you have a nest? How do you feather your nest?

Quotes of the Week

I love my home comforts and I need to nest to feel grounded.
Laura Whitmore

When I learn something new - and it happens every day - I feel a little more at home in this universe, a little more comfortable in the nest.
Bill Moyers