I am thinking that, so long as I aim to fulfill any specific desire with anything other than exactly what I want, I will end up with much more than I want filling the space around me – both energetically and physically – and I will be forever unsatisfied in that desire.
That’s part of why trying to fit the bill for a part just never works out for the best. It might feel good for a while, but it eventually catches up with me, and I feel somewhat miserable until I sort things out back to being fully true to myself and who I am and who I want to be.
Yeah… thoughts for bed tonight… 😉
I am growing increasingly fond of my own home. I say this cautiously, as I have a tendency to avoid the world outside, so to speak, when I reach that intense panic point of my OCD. However, that is not the same experience as what I am currently discovering and referencing. This current experience is one of noticing that I enjoy being in my own home, and that I prefer it to staying in other people’s homes (like my mother’s or my aunt’s house). I am not afraid of staying elsewhere or going elsewhere – there is no fear or overall stress involved in this experience. It is ease and delight that guide this experience for me, instead of agoraphobia or any other phobia. I just enjoy being in my own home.
I like tidying at home, or rearranging furniture, or just plain lying on my floor. I like having a space where I am surrounded by intentionally selected items, all of which, to some degree or other, bring me joy. And not, I have not yet completed the KonMari method. But, just from what I have done already, I can feel the space as one in which I like to spend my time. The only reasons I really even go to the common areas downstairs are because 1)that’s where the bathroom is, 2)that’s where the kitchen is, 3)my barbell just wouldn’t work on the third floor of an old house, and 4)the daytime lighting is spectacular down there. Otherwise, I’m not sure I ever would bother. And, on many days where I get to stay home, I don’t. I’ll spend almost the entire day up in my space. I supposed the only down side to this is that it is a lot harder to get myself outdoors when outdoors is neither very visible nor very accessible, three floors below. But I have been working on that lately.
Anyway, that’s just something I’ve been noticing tonight. I think there is an important balance between loving what I have around me and being attached to what I have around me. I have actively pursued appreciating the convenience of my own things while allowing other things to be what I use, and I feel that this has benefitted me greatly (as opposed to being upset at not having my own something or other, I make it work with what is available to me where I am, and acknowledge that, while my stuff would have been great, the current stuff will suffice for now).
At that, I’m off to bed in not my bed in not my house. I hope I sleep amazingly tonight and awaken rested and blessed with health, vitality, and energy for the day.
I sometimes wonder if my attachment to objects is somehow strongly connected to how I grew up with my siblings…
You see, during my Freudian development years, I have five siblings, and it would be anywhere from all five to non of them around, depending on the current situation… and I have a feeling that it was more often none of them around than any.
I have this vague memory of having a room full of toys when I was really little – it’s just a glimpse sort of memory of this one moment in this one particular house and bedroom… I wonder if my mom kind of surrounded me by toys – granted, we had awesome, genius-type toys and books, not stupid stuff, but there might have been a decent amount of them around – as a means of giving me the company I lacked from my siblings… possibly not, but also possibly so, just not consciously so…
Or maybe I just associate with objects as very important, because those were the versions of my siblings that did stay around whenever the real ones left…
It is difficult for me to let go of things, – I let go of them nowadays, though it definitely takes a lot of work for me to do so – and I wonder if it isn’t in part due to their representing my being surrounded by people who love and care about me.
Maybe not… it was just an idea that floated around for a while, and sounded like an interesting possibility.
I do think it is kind of odd, though, how often it seems I was alone, sibling-wise, in my early years, when considering that I technically had five siblings.
That’s just how those divorces worked out, you know?
I miss my bed in Japan. My bedroom, especially, is one thing I miss most these days. It was a haven for me. No matter what kind of chaos or boredom lurked in my life, every night, my bedroom awaited me in calm, open, and empty space… in beauty. I shut my doors, and was safe in my retreat from everything else. Only love and blessings were ever allowed into my bedroom. I wasn’t even allowed to walk in it if I hadn’t recently showered. Clean clothes, my ukulele and ukulele music, my nighttime books, and water and tissues were just about all that ever went in there, aside from a clean me and my bed.
My bedroom now is slightly larger, but filled with boxes and stuff… a sentimentality to which I am not so sure I still want to cling. I think I am afraid that I will forget the memories, if I get rid of the objects. I do not, for the most part, want the objects, but the memories and the ways I felt. Without the objects, what will remind me?
You know when people seem to ignore the question you ask, and instead answer a different one, one they assume you meant? And you know how you asked that question on purpose, because you wanted an answer to that question, not some other question? Yeah, I kind of want to punch people when they do this to me.
My mom and my best friend are the only ones who have a real shot at guessing whether and where I am going with an idea and questions I am asking about something, and they don’t even get it right all of the time. And they know this, so, if they think I might be leading somewhere specific with my question, they ask if I am doing that, and still answer my question. Other people don’t do that. And it makes me kind of want to punch them for it. Kind of…
Also, I can’t stand when people seem to be incapable of being straight about something. I ask a question, because I am seeking the answer to that question (see aforementioned explanation). Avoiding the answer or making up bull when the true answer is of actual importance is just plane crazy, and yet people like to do it a lot of the time, it seems. Ugh!
Also, when highly educated people misuse basic points of grammar, I have a sort of desire to throw a drink in their faces (the bad-grammar users), and rush away, disgusted. It’s dramatic, sure, but it’s a feeling that shows up somewhat often, nonetheless.
Anyway, I’ll go to sleep, now. I’ve had an annoying time with these few thoughts today (in addition to what felt like a million others), so I guess I just wanted to get them off my chest, in a sense…