The house ledger
I keep the House Ledger as a way of noticing what’s happening here while it’s happening. Some pages are written in the middle of a moment, others after the fact. I don’t plan these entries far ahead. I write them when I’m moved to — often on a whim, when the house feels alive with something that came from my spirit.
Some entries capture the life of the Inn itself. Others are written with whoever happens to be reading in mind.
You don’t need to start at the beginning.
Just open to the latest entry and read from there.
— Mika
Being Held Without Being Asked
There is a particular kind of relief that comes when no one asks you to explain yourself.
You do not have to justify the tiredness. You do not have to organize your thoughts into something understandable or acceptable. You are simply allowed to be as you are, without commentary.
That is the care being offered here.
What it Means to be Looked After
The house has been busy in the best way.
Not hurried. Not strained. Just awake to what needs doing.
Today, the Christmas decorations began to come down. Not all at once. Not with any urgency. Each piece was wrapped and set away with care, as though it mattered that it had been part of something joyful. Being looked after means nothing is rushed out of sight just because its season has passed.
When One Door Closes at Work
You arrived carrying more than your coat today.
I could see it in the way you set your bag down. Too carefully. As if everything you were holding might spill if you moved too quickly. You said very little at first, only that you needed a break from work, from the noise of it, from the worry that had settled into the air after so many were let go all at once.
About Lady Staywell
You may have already met her.
She is the inner voice of the inn. The one who walks the rooms and the halls quietly, noticing the way guests settle into chairs, the thoughts they carry with them, the unspoken worries that arrive tucked neatly inside coats and briefcases. She listens not only to what is said here, but to what is happening beyond these walls, in the wider world that presses in even when the door is closed.
What Carries a Place Like This
Today, the inn felt especially alive.
Not because it was busy, but because someone truly arrived.
One of our guests checked in this morning and stood for a long moment just inside the entry, looking around as if something familiar had finally come into focus. He laughed softly and said he could not believe it took him this long to find a place like this. He wondered where it had been all his life.
The Light that lingers
Today, your task is simple: don’t chase the light. Let it come to you. Sit with it. Let it rest against your skin until you remember that it never truly left…
Resting in Abundance
The door didn’t creak open tonight — it was already closed behind you.
Shoes set aside. Shoulders lowering.
The house is learning your rhythm now, and it’s adjusted itself to you…
Where the Light Lands
…maybe we don't need to start the year with a resolution, a reinvention, or a race.
Maybe it’s enough to notice where the light lands and choose to step into it.