For the past few years, I have often threatened family and friends with the idea that one day I will move far away and live on my own in a lighthouse. It will have big windows, a big library, a big dog and a wide view of the great, big sea.
Anyone is welcome to visit me, but for the most part, I will live out my days in a tall tower, protecting the ships as they make their way home and safely listening to thunderstorms beat against the shore of my sweet, snug tower bedroom.
Is this an absolutely ridiculous fantasy? Yes, it absolutely is, but I don’t really care. I will forever love the idea of getting to be my own introverted Rapunzel who hangs out in a windy old building all day watching the waves crash. Seriously, it’s the perfect situation.
This has been a running daydream of mine for a while, but at the peak of my obsession, I was combing through real estate websites that deal specifically with abandoned lighthouses. (Fun facts: you can buy your very own for $15,000 in the northeast and make it a permanent residence, or you can always fashion it up as a cozy little bed and breakfast, should that be more your speed).
When I found my dream lighthouse posted off the coast of South Africa, there was an actual intervention from most of my friends. At eighteen years old, there was nothing ~technically~ stopping me from taking out a loan and full-sending it right off to the Cape of Good Hope, but I got a serious sit-down on why I at least needed to go to college first. Eventually, I let them have that one.
(I keep monitoring the spot though, and so far no one has bought my blustery little South African Rapunzel home, so I’m still holding out for a win-win here.)
To be real though, I think I mostly love lighthouses because they’re so nostalgic. They’re from a time when people were personally reliant on one another, and they represent a huge amount of trust between sailors and light keepers in the struggle to get everyone home and safe.
Plus, that guiding beacon of light symbolism warms my heart. Maybe I just love them because I too want to feel useful and warm.
Or maybe it’s just because they’re pretty. Maybe it’s because they’re by the sea. Maybe it’s because they seem a little lonely and want someone to live there. Maybe it’s some kind of combination.
All I know is that if, in ten years time, you look me up and it seems like I’m off the grid, then it’s probably because I am. Hit me up anytime though, the stormy Rapunzel tower will always be open to visitors.