Our Shared Home — A Story of Hope

The world is our shared home.

It was built at a time when the world had experienced more than enough fragmentation, violence, and suffering. In response, people chose to create something lasting—something shared.

The house was built on human dignity, peace, justice, and responsibility for one another. These formed the foundation upon which the entire house came to rest.

In the beginning, the house had only the rooms that made it a home.

There was a kitchen—a place where people met in everyday life.There, they listened, shared worries, and took care of one another.

There was a chamber—a quiet room with books and stillness.There, people paused to think, asked why, and built shared understanding.

And there was a great hall—the shared space of the house.There, people gathered to work together. In the great hall, shared responsibility turned into action.

In these rooms, everyday life was lived.

Over time, the house began to change.

It grew, became more complex, and expanded. Comfort was added. Safety was improved. New structures and systems were integrated to respond to changing needs and a changing world.

These developments were necessary. They brought space, protection, and new possibilities.

Gradually, however, attention began to shift away from the heart of the house. More and more people moved through the outer structures, while the core slowly faded into the background.

New technology arrived as well. Heating was modernized—often with renewable energy. Lighting improved. Ventilation evolved. Systems helped maintain the house and reduce waste.

The house became more comfortable, more sustainable, and more efficient. This was genuinely a good thing.

At the same time, layers of “wallpaper” appeared on the walls—processes, rules, metrics, and systems. The wallpaper was necessary. Without it, the house could not have supported its growth and complexity.

Little by little, wallpaper spread everywhere. Layer by layer, it covered the original structure—not because it had disappeared, but because it was taken for granted.

The way the rooms were used began to change.

There was less time to stop in the kitchen. The chamber was visited less often—doing took priority over thinking. And the great hall filled with schedules, furniture, and systems, until there was no longer space simply to be together.

People lived in the house. They did their best.

But gradually, they began to grow weary. Not because they didn’t care, but because the house no longer supported life in the same way as before.

The house still stood. It functioned. The systems ran. The technology helped.

In many ways, things seemed to work better than ever.

And yet a question began to surface:

Why does it feel heavier to live here, even though everything seems to work?

The answer was not found in the technology. Nor in the systems.

It lay in forgetting what carries the house—and how its rooms were meant to be used.

We wanted to restore the house. Not by building something new, and not by returning to the past, but by bringing the original spirit of the house back into view— here and now, in this reality.

The restoration did not begin by chance, nor just anywhere. It began at the kitchen door.

For a long time, the kitchen had been rarely used. Not because it wasn’t needed, but because other spaces had taken all the attention.

Over time, the lock on the kitchen door had rusted. It wasn’t impossible to enter the heart of the home—but it was no longer effortless.

We began very small. Around the doorway.

By removing the wallpaper layer by layer and looking at what lay beneath, the load-bearing structure slowly came into view. And something simple and powerful happened:

People remembered.

The logs beneath had remained dry and strong— original and load-bearing— despite all the years and layers placed upon them.

We are only at the very beginning of the work.

That is why we invite all the residents of the house to join in the restoration— because the house belongs to all of us. And because we take care of it also for those who will come after us.