but i always had my territory. i had my lot to till. my parents were good in the way of creating an atmosphere of aesthetic peace. i could retreat to my room, where i had my STUFF. there was a wonderful gathering area, full of music, a proper dining room flowing with southern comfort food.
approaching college, and my first real taste of having to cultivate my own space, i had so many ideas of what i wanted to do inside whatever four walls i landed in. i bought posters, speedracer bedsheets, the works. within two months, my dorm room was a disaster apparently brought on by daily conniptions so i fled for my parents house at every opportunity. i also began claiming other peoples' homes as my sanctuary.
it took me a long time to realize the importance of the new home, wherever it was. still, i hadn't the gumption to turn my room/dorm/apartment/house into my own. throughout college, my room was an open suitcase and a mattress on the floor.
this continued for years. i never stayed in a space for too long, which mirrored my social life and many areas of my emotional angst. even if i had my own place where i would pay rent, i never hung out there. i hated my room, everywhere.
i never took the time to cultivate my own space, make it my own, make it somewhere that was completely me.
in denver, i almost stumbled in to finally having a room that screamed "JJ!"
the previous tenant left many of her belongings to give me a head start. lamps, for the great reader uses them, quirky wall danglies, sage nailed above my bed to ward off the spirits, of course.
slowly i arranged and rearranged, gathered pieces to my puzzle. i look around at the space i inhabit now with pride. i love it here. it might be the first home since i left my parents' nest that i truly feel is of me.
i guess i never wanted to accept that i needed my own room. i was so attached to what i created in my parents' landing, and always figured that to be my true home. everywhere else was a hostel. in the back of my mind, i knew that anywhere i went i wouldn't stay long.
in keeping with my infinite theme of balance here at postandeason, the joy and peace my new home has created has also presented an interesting dilemma. i never want to leave! i have found that the comfort i always sought through the eyes of my open suitcase, yet in some ways i have withdrawn from social settings. anytime i leave my place now, i feel like i'm heading back to college. this, in part, is also due to the fact that i am living outside of louisiana for the first time in my life. which, in turn, is partially responsible for the utter necessity that brought on my creating a home for myself in the first place.
circles, my friends. now the coin has been flipped. i told you the grass isn't always greener. every solution creates an entire new set of problems, which is why you start dying the minute you stop asking questions. you deteriorate the instant you think you have it figured out.
to go out or to stay home? whatever strength used to carry me into meeting new people is now a crutch and a hiding spot. which would i rather? whatever ... it's just fascinating the way things work. i could talk in circles at length on this topic, and never come to a be-all-end-all. that's the beauty of this whole thing.
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