Maybe what we need is a vacation from ourselves every now and again. Left solely with our innermost thoughts life can become a strenuous exercise. I believe many of our prolific powers ignite from seeing ourselves through the lens of all that surrounds us. Simultaneously, parallels of synchronicity tend to arise. While we seek that which resembles our personal paradise we may begin to settle our inner turmoil. When we’re in concert with the intervals inside and outside of self we generate harmony. It’s the hug you receive without being asked when your tears start to flow or the glow from moonlight along the path to your secret evening swim spot. Every time I housesit a space filled with natural light and a resplendent view I feel at home, even though I’ve yet to call one my very own. Familiarity is the passport that gives you entry into safety and comfort.
If I consider my life honestly, I see that it is governed by a certain very small number of patterns of events which I take part in over and over again…when I see how very few of them there are, I begin to understand what huge effect these few patterns have on my life, on my capacity to live. If these few patterns are good for me, I can live well. If they are bad for me, I can’t. ~Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building
To all the homes I’ve loved before…. My head has rested against such a disparate variety of pillows since a fated 2006 transition year for me occurred. Turning my long-held apartment livelihood into a fly-by-night stroll through the lives of hundreds of people and places. I’ve literally spent quite a few nights aboard airplanes to Addis Ababa, New York, Mumbai, or Moscow. This transient affair that remains to present writing seemed extremely careless at first. However, carefully it leaned heavily against the informality with which I’m more easily inclined and the interior design idolization I’d missed as a collegiate focus. I extoll the virtues of hopping a plane anytime or spontaneously seeing where the day or world can lead me. So, equally, I gathered this operation self-discovery mode. Roaming others houses affords me scrupulous monetary savings, as well methodically lauded a devotion for falling in love with myself.
We build too many walls and not enough bridges. ~Isaac Newton
It only took her a short leap to discover she had a long way to go before knowing all her parts…. Understanding me has introduced a wealth of serenity into the jet black bumpiness that seeks to spook me like the chainsaw-guy at Knott’s Scary Farm. For example, I want a scenic home whose eyes gaze upon sparkles, be them seascapes or twinkly lights. I’ve realized my partnership wants are actually an asset for healthy relations, as I excavated the difference between alone time and abandonment. Sharing is necessary for my prosperity, yet balanced with an ample dosage of me time. Mostly I’ve managed houses solo. During my solitary spins, I notice my creative juices percolate steadily. When animals or humans are added I dive into the more social stasis. The more I exposed myself to the ingredients of all these lives that were not my own, the more I knew exactly what I wanted from life itself.
Acquiring these walks in another’s world frequently unravels all compartments competing for attention in my brain. Why am I missing the love of my life? What type of person do I want to live with? Where do I want to stake my claim on land? Who are the creatures that curl with me at night? Can I walk around naked anytime without issue? How did I get right here, right now (i.e. Are there better turns I might have made or can make)? I can look into your eyes and it conjures all sorts of intimate reflection for me. We can bump into one another on a playground and I take the tingle of our arms touching as a sign I might be closer to meeting the man of my dreams. Finding one’s personal sense of security is as close as the maxim “know thyself”. To truly ascertain all that you are, I think we must interact. It is the synergy of freely associating with others since our ancients began that I find matures our ease.
Cozy is my religion. ~Lena Dunham
While meditation is a vital well of rational calm for me, it is perpetually the cozy reflex I crave as the best barometer for all things with me being that sober blend of sane and excitable. Cuddled up portrays to me the purity of a state of bliss. We can look at this matter-of-factly as the vision of a lone soul huddled in a hammock or aroused in a wad of soft fuzzy layers with another fireside. On beyond clichés, coziest is the character of vitality in my book. Flanked by an environment that compliments me, with bodies I adore, a plate full of inspiration and abundance for dessert will do my tricky intellect good anytime. Indeed, hunky-dory humans are the only ones I want galloping our planet. This isn’t to say I don’t have room for your shit, which stinks as loudly as mine I’m certain. Snuggling up with your best self as often as you’re able is the mastermind behind my positivity. The only ways around getting to a superlative you that I’ve come to know are navigating gateways through others. Shading all of us from the entire world simply won’t develop the care package you are.
Hunker in for a happiest you through the looking glass of outwards as much as inwards.