Water & Fire: Restoring Our Home, Restoring Ourselves
A Renovation of Hearth and Spirit
Gracious reader,
As we near the completion of our prolonged and painful home renovation—a journey that began after the flood of January 2023—the process has reminded me repeatedly that the work we do on our homes often mirrors the work we must do on ourselves.
The challenges of the past two years have overwhelmed me at times: the emotional toll of losing most of our home and belongings, the logistical nightmare of coordinating repairs, and the unpredictable setbacks that seem to crop up just when you think you’re in the clear. There were moments when it seemed like the project would never end. With three children and demanding careers, it often felt like we were living in a reality TV show, complete with a rotating cast of outlandish characters joining—and then being voted off—the island.
"Are we on camera?" I’ve sometimes mused to myself or my husband, reflecting sardonically on the preposterous situations we’ve found ourselves in. But now, as the final touches are being made, it strikes me that the story of our home’s restoration is, in many ways, a metaphor for something much larger—the restoration of beauty, meaning, and connection in our lives.
This became clear to me as I read about the restoration and reopening of Paris’s cathedral of Notre Dame, which opened its doors this week after a fire largely destroyed it five years ago (incidentally, on my birthday), on April 15, 2019.
The Duality of Fire and Water
The world grieved when Notre Dame, a symbol of France and Western civilization, burned in an accidental, devastating fire in 2019.
This week, it reopened after an intensive five-year restoration.
The timing feels serendipitous: this month, our home is also being resurrected from devastation—though ours was caused by water.
The symbolism of fire and water isn’t lost on me. While they seem like opposites—water can quench fire, and fire can evaporate water—they are deeply interconnected.
Both fire and water are equally destructive and represent death and loss. Yet they also symbolize purification, creativity, vitality, and new beginnings.
This duality is reflected in many religions and myths around the world.
In Greek mythology, the phoenix is an immortal bird that bursts into flame and then re-emerges from the ashes.
Prometheus, also from Greek myth, stole fire from the gods and gave it to mankind, bringing creativity and civilization. In retaliation, Zeus gifted humanity Pandora and her infamous box, filled with the perils of temporal life—death, suffering, and more.
In the Hebrew Bible, God sends a flood to cleanse an evil and fallen world, instructing Noah and his family to build an ark. From this vessel—after 40 days and nights of rainfall—they begin anew.
In Christian theology, the Holy Spirit is symbolized by both water and fire: water cleanses and renews, while fire represents passionate transformation.
In Chinese philosophy, “yin and yang” represent interconnected but opposing forces: Yin is associated with feminine energies like the moon, water, and darkness, while Yang embodies masculine energies like the sun, fire, and light.
(There are surely more examples of fire and water’s duality across cultural traditions. If you know of others, I’d love for you to share them in the comments below.)
The fire that consumed Notre Dame, the flood that overwhelmed our home, and the restoration of both offer profound stories of hope and renewal.
Out of Death, Life
Our home’s flood was a profound loss—not just of brick and mortar but of something much more intimate: a place where we hoped to build lives, memories, and traditions. We watched as our home was dismantled, first by the flood, then further during the demolition required for restoration. Its history felt scattered, like broken pieces of a puzzle.
Now, after years of hard work, it is beginning to take shape again. This trial has broken me, yet it has also purified me, clarifying my goals and priorities in life.
Restoration, as I’ve learned, is as much about reclaiming the soul of a place as it is about replacing walls and floors. It’s about honoring the past while rebuilding for the future.
I’m reminded of the French philosopher Simone Weil’s words: “To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul.”
Our home, like our hearts, became unrooted by the flood. As we restore its foundations, we are also restoring a sense of rootedness in ourselves.
Silver Linings: The Beauty and Burden of Restoration
Just as Notre Dame stood for centuries as a symbol of resilience and beauty, our home—built in 1915, rather historic by American standards—represents more than a physical structure.
It is a symbol of continuity, of our family’s journey, and of the love we’ve poured into it over the years. The work of restoring it has not been easy. Undoing the damage and rebuilding what was lost has been fraught with delays, setbacks, and unexpected hurdles. There were countless moments when it felt like we were making no progress.
Yet, in those moments of difficulty, I’ve been reminded of a deeper truth: nothing worth doing comes easily—or quickly.
Reading about Notre Dame’s restoration has helped me see silver linings in our own hardship. Many aspects of the cathedral—its now-glowing Pietà and magnificent stained-glass windows—might never have been restored if not for the fire.
Workers on the site reportedly spoke of feeling a deep, almost spiritual connection to the cathedral. Each oak beam, carefully selected and carved to match the original, symbolized their commitment to preserving its soul.
This resonates deeply with me. The restoration of our home has been grueling, but it is also deeply meaningful. It’s not just about creating a space to live—it’s about restoring a sense of belonging, history, and shared memories.
Reclaiming Misplaced Meaning
When Notre Dame burned, I was struck by the way its tragedy was politicized. Some blamed government policies; others used it to advocate for higher taxes or increased public funding for cultural institutions.
This reflects a larger crisis I explore in The Soul of Civility: the misplaced meaning in our lives. As traditional sources of meaning—faith, family, community—decline, politics often fills the void, becoming an idol in our culture.
Similarly, our home’s restoration has revealed idolatry in my own life. At times, I allowed the project to consume me, overshadowing the things that bring true joy and life. This experience has humbled me, broken me, and reminded me to keep my priorities in balance.
Restoration of Hearth and Home
In the coming weeks, we will walk through the doors of our restored home once again. We’ll gather around the hearth, sit at the kitchen table, and sleep in bedrooms that once echoed with our children’s laughter. But more than that, we’ll be reminded that this house is not just a building—it’s a place where we belong, where our stories live, and where our future will unfold.
Much like Notre Dame, our lives are built on a foundation of beauty, care, and meaning. And that foundation is always worth restoring.
As I reflect on this journey, I carry with me the reminder that no matter the challenges or setbacks, we can rebuild. More importantly, we can restore what matters most—our relationships, our values, and the beauty of the life we are creating.
Looking ahead:
January 23, 2025- I am thrilled to announce that I will be speaking at Yale Law School this coming January, invited by the Crossing Divides Program, part of the Tsai Leadership Program, which is dedicated to building strong bridges across our differences.
January 23, 2025- Buckley Institute Dinner Seminar at Yale
February 27, 2025- Georgia Center for Nursing Excellence
April 24- Kennesaw State University
In the news:
Civility, manners, and hospitality in the Odyssey- Enjoy reading my guest post for Classical Pursuits! In this post, I reflect on Emily Wilson’s groundbreaking translation of Homer's Odyssey and explore its central themes of xenia, civility, and hospitality. I also delve into how these timeless ideas resonate in our world today. Plus, don’t miss the chance to experience this on the upcoming small group tour by Classical Pursuits in Greece, where you can explore Homer’s world through a unique lens.
The Art of Manliness: Beyond Mere Politeness — The Art of True Civility
I had a great conversation on the Rod Arquette & Greg Show on @1059KNRS
about my The Washington Post op-ed on the power of not talking about politics. If you missed it, catch the full discussion here!Washington Post: Want to save your friendships? Take a page from the Founding Fathers.
How to Be a Better Human Podcast: I loved talking with Chris Duffy on his excellent TED podcast about How to be civil even if you disagree (w/ Alexandra Hudson)
Civility is our eternal project- review of the soul of civility by the George W. Bush Center
Honored to share this sermon series inspired by my book, The Soul of Civility.
Author and Civic Advocate Alexandra Hudson to Speak at Berry College
How to Be a Better Human Podcast: I loved talking with Chris Duffy on his excellent TED podcast about How to be civil even if you disagree (w/ Alexandra Hudson)
Perspective and Reflections:
‘Unlimited dollars’: how an Indiana hospital chain took over a region and jacked up prices
The reactions to the tragic murder of UnitedHealth's Brian Thompson have been surprising: “My condolences are pending prior authorization,” some have quipped. That some have joked or even cheered in the wake of a murder reveals a larger issue—the anger many feel toward America’s healthcare system.
It’s becoming increasingly clear that Thompson was targeted specifically as a symbol of that anger. It’s as if people—and the murderer—are holding him accountable for all the sins and shortcomings of America’s healthcare system, forgetting his humanity or the full context of who he was: a father, friend, and son.
There may indeed be many villains in the story of America’s broken healthcare system, but one insurance company—and one CEO—is neither the sole nor the root cause.
This discussion about frustrations with America’s healthcare system reminded me of an article I recently read about another player in this game of bad healthcare: hospitals. The article felt personal since the hospital network it covers serves my husband’s family in Fort Wayne.
After reading an infuriating article like this, one could easily imagine someone lashing out at the CEO of Parkview Hospitals for their predatory practices and pricing. It’s not just insurance companies that are the problem. It’s not any single person or entity.
But these systemic challenges in healthcare certainly do not justify taking a life.
Currently Reading & Loving:
I loved this essay on the art and craft of making topiaries—of people following their passion, bringing great joy to themselves and to others. Read here!
A Year Ago on Civic Renaissance:
How can they hate me if they don’t even know me?
Thank you for being part of our Civic Renaissance community!
Thank you for the quote by Simone Weil about being rooted. For many, myself included, being uprooted is a deep wound. Also, important for Notre Dam Cathedral. In centuries past the Cathedral was the center of rootedness. It took generations to build and each successive generation had a task in the construction eg. planting trees, quarrying stone for the foundation, laying the stone foundation, harvesting the timber, and so on. The construction project itself created rootedness...
An enjoyable post, thank you. I was struck by the photo of your home, and how it appears to be at the top of the hill. What caused the flooding? Hurricane? Other?
You spoke of the duality of fire and water, which is accurate, but you cannot talk of both without also mentioning of the singularity of both - they are essential to life. We cannot have one without the other.
I hope the move into your new home goes without incident.