The Luxury of Home

Beyond the Spotlight: The Real Luxury of Home

by Jay Richardson

When actor Cillian Murphy said, "I love being at home. My life is very simple. I read a lot of books. I watch a lot of films… I walk the dog. Yeah, I'm boring," I felt something shift inside me.
It wasn’t that his words were revolutionary. It was that they named a truth I’ve always known: the most extravagant luxury isn't found in grand gestures or exotic destinations. It's found in the deep, restorative peace of being exactly where you belong.

In a world that constantly urges us to optimize, network and achieve, admitting you are happy being boring feels almost subversive. Yet, as someone who spends her professional life helping people find their perfect waterfront sanctuaries, I recognize this sentiment immediately. It is the quiet longing I see in my clients' eyes. They aren't just searching for a property; they are searching for a place to finally exhale.

Two Worlds, One Life

My days at my office in Dwight are fueled by high energy. I love the strategic dance of luxury real estate—the market analysis, the problem-solving, the satisfaction of the deal. But the moment I drive home, I cross an invisible threshold.

As I turn onto our street, my shoulders drop. The mental chatter of emails and data quiets. By the time I step through the front door, I'm no longer Jay Richardson, the broker. I'm simply myself.

Buddy makes the commute to the office and back with me. He shifts gears from the office greeter to a relaxed puddle of contentment the moment we pull into the drive. Molly, our cat, offers a slow blink and a stretch, a quiet affirmation that we are exactly where we should be.

The Art of Doing Nothing

Our evenings unfold in a rhythm I cherish. Sometimes Cam and I cook, creating dinners that are less about the food and more about the shared act of creation. Other times, friends pop by for unplanned euchre games that stretch into hours of laughter. But it's the quieter moments that truly restore me.
Reading a book I’ve been anticipating. The weight of Molly against my legs. Watching the deer move through the property with unhurried grace, or seeing the foxes at dusk, their coats burnished gold in the fading light.

These aren't attractions I need to schedule. They are simply the fabric of home. This daily connection to the natural world reminds me that there is a rhythm beyond human urgency.

The Radical Act of Staying Put

Culture glorifies the hustle. We are bombarded with images of "over-the-top" experiences that promise to make us feel alive. While I love a well-planned trip, I’ve found my soul doesn't need constant stimulation to thrive. What it needs is space. Silence. The freedom to simply be, without performing.
When Cam and I sit together discussing nothing in particular—the wildlife we saw, the books we’re reading—it might look unremarkable. But these meandering conversations are where real connection happens. This intentional simplicity isn't about retreating from life; it's about returning to it.

This personal understanding of home informs everything I do professionally. When clients tell me they want "a peaceful retreat," I don't hear a vague aspiration. I hear a deep human need for restoration.
This is why I dig deep to understand why a client wants a property. The couple seeking a cottage is investing in a lifestyle that prioritizes peace over prestige. They understand that true luxury lies not in impressing others, but in creating a life that feels deeply, authentically satisfying.

The Freedom of Enough

Perhaps the most valuable lesson I've learned is the concept of "enough." Recognizing that I have what I need is liberating. It doesn't mean I’ve stopped aspiring— I am deeply engaged with my work — but it means I’m not chasing a perpetually receding finish line.

If Cillian Murphy's words resonated with you, you might be someone who understands that true luxury has little to do with ostentation. In a world that won't stop spinning, having a place to stand still is the greatest luxury of all.