Fragile (This Side Up): a love letter to the half-finished, still-hopeful corners of our lives

Dear friends,

This summer has been filled with many sweet moments for my family. We took an epic road trip from Oklahoma to California, one that we've been dreaming about for years. We made numerous fun stops on our drive to and from Legoland California, including Roswell, Santa Monica, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Winslow, and Albuquerque, to name a few. We discovered so many amazing places we hadn't seen before.

Yet, two weeks before we were set to leave, we found out that my husband had lost his job – the school where he worked had closed suddenly, and it also happened to be the same school where our three children attend. Against a backdrop of uncertainty, we decided to fully embrace the joy and beauty of the magical moments we'd been planning for so long.

Why is it that sometimes life's most magical moments come alongside life's greatest challenges? Moments of change and transition, from moving to marriage to welcoming a new baby to losing a job or getting a new one or grieving the loss of someone you love, all come with unique challenges. Sometimes, the challenges are a little bit fun and frivolous. The ones where you can say, someday we'll laugh about this. Other times, they're downright frustrating.

And while this little corner of the internet here on Spoken is the only thing actually connecting so many of us today, these are universal feelings. Living between our hopes and dreams and the frustration of what is still undone, unpacked, holding us back, or breaking our hearts.

We meet here to discuss home decor and furniture deals amidst all the other aspects of our lives, the changes we're facing that have nothing to do with interior design. This week, I wanted to take a moment to connect with you in this heartfelt moment and bring the two together, in the spirit of bringing hope to the unfinished corners of our hearts and homes.

We've talked about it many times before, but even when you've finally found your dream home or apartment, you still have to figure out how to make it feel like home. You have big hopes and dreams for your space, not to mention for yourself and how you show up in it.

I've noticed that tough times make it easier for me to express gratitude for the simple beauty and security of whatever space I get to call home. But, even then, it's hard not to notice those unfinished spaces, like the undecorated wall, or the pile you've been meaning to sort through for the last month (or six).

Here are a few reminders from the past couple of weeks to hopefully bring some comfort to your heart and home, wherever you are in your in-between time.

Take Sweet Stops on the Scenic Route

On the road trip, we had a rough idea of our destinations but found joyful detours along the way. We discovered cane cholla cacti along the Clovis highway in New Mexico and enjoyed watching beautiful storms roll across the skies—a reminder of just how stunning a storm can be.

We had a photo shoot in White Sands, took selfies with saguaros in Arizona, watched the sunset & rode the ferris wheel in Santa Monica, drove hours out of the way to Las Vegas to sing Viva Las Vegas on the strip at midnight with our kids before checking into a hotel, and took photos on a corner in Winslow, Arizona. All the while, our leading destination was Legoland in California.

We plan our lives in terms of milestones and our homes in terms of the long list of projects we need to complete, just like we plan a trip by its destinations. However, it's also really important to follow the joy along the way. Life rarely goes in a straight line, but the detours give it soul.

The Half-Finished Corners Still Matter

Between the adventures and the job hunting this summer, I won't even get into the spaces in my home that have been neglected. For someone who spends so much time writing about organization, decorating, and design, you might be surprised to learn that nearly every corner in my home looks half-finished right now.

Toys, puzzles, and laundry are piled up. I keep adding to my to-do and to-buy lists for the house, but it always feels like a work in progress. Honestly, I think that's normal.

The unfinished spaces in your home and life are an invitation to approach them (and yourself) with care. What can you learn about yourself or your home when you approach decluttering your home or finally face those unfinished tasks and projects?

Sometimes, the emotional weight of “unfinished” spaces is what makes them feel so overwhelming. It's similar to seasons of waiting or transition. Taking small steps to care for those half-finished corners—or take care of yourself until you're ready to—can be a quiet act of hope.

Threading the Joy Through the Hard Stuff

It’s strange how joy insists on showing up, even when life feels cracked wide open. Sometimes it’s loud and glittering, like a child’s laugh echoing through the Legoland hotel hallway. Or a sunset so golden you forget, for just a second, that you’re holding your breath about what comes next. Other times, it’s quiet and small: the sound of your own coffee brewing, a warm blanket pulled from the dryer, the way your home smells after someone bakes something just because.

In hard seasons, joy doesn’t cancel out the grief or the stress or the anxiety — it threads right through it. Not in a toxic-positivity, “just be grateful” kind of way, but like a glimmer of thread in a fraying tapestry. Not fixing anything. But holding something. Reminding you: you’re still here.

And while you can’t control everything, you can make space for small joys at home—the kind that offer warmth without requiring a big budget or a lot of energy. Here are a few to try:

1. Create one “comfort corner.”
Choose one spot, like a bedside table, a reading chair, or even just the edge of your kitchen counter, and make it feel like a tiny sanctuary. Add a lamp, your favorite candle, a plant, or a framed photo that makes you smile.

2. Add a “joy trigger” to your daily routine.
Put something in your line of sight that makes you feel calm or grounded. Twinkle lights above your sink or a perfect playlist for your morning tea ritual are a couple things that come to mind.

3. Let yourself finish one small thing.
Hanging that picture, fluffing the couch pillows, or clearing one messy surface might not seem like much. But completing something—even something tiny—gives your nervous system a place to rest. (This is a strategy I've been leaning into heavily these days.)

Maybe the secret isn’t forcing things to feel okay. It’s letting joy gently coexist with what’s still unresolved. A thread, not a solution. But a thread strong enough to keep you going.

What We Hold Onto, What We Let Go

Transitions come in many shapes and sizes. Sometimes, we get to choose them and other times they choose us, or something like that.

Every season of change—whether it’s joyful, heartbreaking, or somewhere in between—asks us to take stock. To open the emotional boxes we’ve been carrying and ask: Do I still need this? Is this still mine? Sometimes we hold on. Sometimes we let go. Sometimes we’re not sure yet. And that's okay too.

After we returned home from our trip, I found myself looking at our space in a different light. Some things felt heavier than they did before we left. Others felt more precious. That’s the thing about big life shifts: they change what feels worth holding onto.

Maybe you’ve felt that, too. After a move. After a loss. In the quiet days that come after a whirlwind. You look around and suddenly know which items, habits, or expectations no longer fit, and which ones still feel like home.

Letting go can be a physical act. Maybe donating a chair that’s never quite worked, or finally tossing the pile of old mail on the counter. But it can also be more subtle. Releasing the idea that your home (or your life) has to be finished, perfect, or Instagram-ready.

And what we hold on to? That’s where the beauty lives. The chipped mug you reach for every morning. The memory of your kid’s laugh echoing down a hallway in a city you just visited for the first time. The quiet rituals that make you, you— lighting your favorite candle, rearranging a room (again), calling a friend.

These are the things that remind us who we are and what matters most, especially when life feels fragile. Especially when we’re still figuring it out.

So if you’re in a season where everything feels a little tender, unfinished, or up in the air, know that you’re not alone. There’s beauty here, even in the corner that’s not quite done and the story that's still unfolding. We can feel fragile and half-finished together.

Xo, Jen