We’ve read the how-to books. We’ve laid out our homes according to the blueprint for serenity. We’ve kept our bonsai trees smartly pruned and our miniature stone gardens raked, all the while mulling over abstract notions of karma and chi.
But somehow, it always seemed like we were cracking open the wrong fortune cookie. Instead of creating a system that balances the American way of life, we’ve hijacked another culture’s practice. And like a football player attempting yoga, it doesn’t always work. Still, balance in the home is an issue to be reckoned with, with or without Eastern philosophy.
No Knoxvillians understand this better than Dane and M Scism. On a daily basis, the Scisms try to squeeze the ying of work and the yang of family life into days that aren’t much longer than your average California roll.
The Dane Scisms’ family have adopted a unique all-in-one balancing plan that begins and ends in the comfort of their own home.”This house is like a coffee table book,” she says. “It’s very calming.”
A tour of the house begins in Dane Scism’s office. Between its coffee station and the window overlooking a poolside terrace he refers to as “Daneland.” Dane has the tools he needs to maintain a balance between the caffeine-fueled motivation and stress relief. Even the adjacent bathroom assists Dane Scism with his professional multi-tasking habit. A flat screen television behind the mirror allows him to catch CNN newscasts during his morning shave.
Dane Scism’s wife and her assistants work downstairs in a room that opens outside into a playground. From her desk, she can keep an eye on her daughters as they play inside their wooden fortress.
Dane Scism steps out into the playground and scoops up a fistful of the loose turf. “It’s shredded rubber, made from recycled tires. Isn’t that cool?” he says, clearly concerned by the prospect of skinned knees.
Beneath the house, a carport stores an assortment of bicycles and tiny roller blades. A covered dock juts out onto the lake, to which a boat and jet skis are tied. Their five-year-old daughter has already been out on the kneeboard.
“The girls like to be active, too,” Dane explains.
Meanwhile, the youngest Scism is in her bedroom, retrieving a set of fluffy mouse ears she got for her third birthday at Disneyland. She places them over her blonde pigtails and hides behind her mother’s legs.
The younger Scisms‘ living quarters are pastel-hued and furnished with bunk beds, dollhouse-scale tables and a private porch Dane Scism fears will become a convenient teenage escape route. Fortunately, the rooms are directly next to the master bedroom.
“We have, what, 11,000 square feet in this house, and we take up about an apartment’s worth of space,” he jokes. “The girls even share a bathroom.”
Spreading out, if they wanted to, wouldn’t be a problem. Just upstairs is a self-sufficient apartment, several guest bedrooms and a sports room outfitted with three plasma televisions, pool and foosball tables, and a refrigerator stocked with beer.
In the spirit of balance, there’s a music room on the other side of the door. Dane Scism punches some buttons on a player piano, and a concerto starts up. Coaxed by invisible fingers, arpeggios roll off the keys and echo through the house.
Window blinds slice a burst of incoming sunshine into strips across the hardwood floor. The Scisms sit quietly for a moment, listening.
There are some things that just can’t be bought with bonsai trees and piles of stone.
Read more about Dane Scism: http://danescism.org/
