Most people that know me, know all too well that I am a creature of habit.
I like my patterns… my set routines. Some would call it a rut, others may accuse me of being inflexible. But truth be told, I am just lazy. I like my comfort zones. And I do resist change. Hell, ask Rozz… she knows better than most, having tried to get me to change some of my ways over the last 8 years she’s known me.
Like some great tree, I tend to set down roots and would rather weather the storms where I am currently than uproot and have to resettle elsewhere. That metaphor continues on beyond my residence at the time… it seems to be a common theme in my life, in my career, friendships, relationships, habits, tastes and more.
Well, lately, I’m becoming less tolerant of storms. Maybe age is finally bestowing some wisdom and experience upon me.
I had to move home recently… those that have followed my story over the last year and a half, may have heard some of the descriptions of the antics of my housemates in that time. I’ve met some truly wonderful people. And I’ve met some that I would prefer not to relate to ever again. Perhaps due to my own anachronistic intolerances or maybe I just got tired of being used and abused.
The move, for me, just like all the other moves, has had it’s fair share of pain and trauma. Uprooting everything. Packing up more than just physical belongings and having to shift from one secure space to a foreign and uncertain space. Not knowing if I can create the same sense of security and serenity that I try to create in ‘my’ space.
And yes, I am delving into the esoteric here… exploring a concept based on what I heard recently on a podcast presented by the late Alan Watts.
We are more than just the physical extremes of our bodies. We are the space we live in. Work in. Move through. We are the people we interact with. We are our actions. We are our thoughts and feelings. We are more than ‘centres of awareness, locked up in a bag of skin’. And we are not separate from the world and the people in it.
Without an environment, everything else becomes meaningless. Without a description of my environment, there is no reference for my actions on that environment. Ergo, without people, my interactions, my words and my feelings have no meaning. And so on and so forth.
We are in fact, our ‘organism-environment‘. I’ll let the biologist boffins tell you more about that term.
Getting back to ‘my’ space… the ‘organism-environment’ that I try to create for myself, is one in which I try to build a sense of security. Of isolation, when I need it, yet with enough openness that I don’t remove all chance of interaction with others. I surround myself with books and music, pictures and movies. These are my friends when I need them, when the real world becomes too much for me to deal with. And they are mechanisms whereby I interact with others… a book lent between bibliophiles, a shared passion for the music lovers, a movie to watch with friends, etc.
My home is my den. I keep in it the things I need to feel comfortable. So that when I retreat from the world, I can go to a place where I feel safe. Where the chaos of the world around me is left at the door.
And so, every time that I move, I have to dig up all of that hard work and try find that ‘space’ again. Or work to create it.
This recent move… we’ll see how it works out. So far so good, but I still have some reservations. But who knows… I’ve only been in here a week and I’m still adjusting to the new environment. It would be unfair of me not to give it a chance.
Anyway… enough serious thinking for tonight. I’ve just gotten back from going to go see the new Indiana Jones movie at Brightwater Commons and in all honesty, it was a fun little romp. A well needed break from reality.
Tomorrow night I am celebrating my birthday with Rozz and Nick and our respective friends and colleagues, as we all have our birthdays one after the other and have decided to do a joint celebration.
Good times, good company. May that feeling last the whole weekend… I need it after the week I’ve had.
