I have lulled myself into a sense of security. Having finally become acclimated to the idea that I have eight months of this year left to spend in peace and tranquility, whatever that means. This vacation-cum-expedition is now settling in my head as just another new environment. The fear is now replaced by complacency. From putting pressure on myself to be productive, I have begun feeling like I have a lot of time, so much time that I needn’t think about certain things now or do them at all for that matter. But it has taken some amount of persuasion to getting there.
You have to make do with what you have. It’s pointless to keep asking for more when you know you’re not going to get it. I have been doing some reading, a chapter per day and it’s one of those books that makes you reconsider a lot about how you lead your daily life by a renowned albeit controversial author. My home has now become less of a cage but more of my own space. There are little bits of me strewn around like I have marked out my territory. A book here, headphones there, files, papers, and the like. The house has started feeling like home and it’s taken a while.
When you’ve spent 4 years outside the space you simply assign the name, ‘home’ to it. Returning is not just a physical action, but it’s a mental one as well. When I returned my mind rather my soul hadn’t returned yet. Now that I have settled in, my bed has finally started to feel comfortable, the table is of an adequate height and I have found the right sitting position on the couch. These are my little markers indicating that my mind and body are now in the same place. The city seems less alien now. It’s a city I spent 17 solid years of my life in, but it’s funny how quickly things change in four years.
There’s a part of you that embraces the changes, but these changes take a while to get used to. Today at the mall I felt like an outsider even though I’d been there umpteen number of times. It’s a strange sort of out-of-body experience. Inside my own home, I started seeing what it looked like to me as a seven-year-old. I had a sandbox in the garden which was covered up with grass once I outgrew the sandbox. Over the years so much has changed in this house that was my castle as a kid. Now everything seems less big because I grew tall more than that I grew up.
I have spent nearly every big moment of my life in this simple house that shares the same birthday date as I do, although it happens to be five years younger. Now in this particular year so far, I have built a new relationship with the house, new introductions perhaps a more grown-up one. This year, therefore, is turning out to be a really important one and slowly my depression is retreating to the background and a lot of other issues in my life are coming into the spotlight for me to resolve and face up to. I’m finally the captain of this ship.
I’m shaping this year like a potter at a wheel, and of course, I’ve had a few failed attempts. Every month I question what I am doing and whether all of this is enough. As I go along it’s becoming easier, it’s daunting but it’s easier. I am a perfectionist and I love details and now I am starting to see things coming together, plans are evolving and normalcy is returning to a house that was dead silent mostly because none of its three inhabitants knew what to say to each other. This is not just a journey that I must make and I need to keep reminding myself that my parents are taking this journey just as much as I am. Every time I ask for their help though I feel like less of an adult, I guess you can’t really ever become an adult for them.
They know I am fussy and everybody has tried to make this as easy as they can for me. I know I’ve been hiding out in this house so far but I am going to have to get out and face the world once more. Next week I’ll be making major progress, taking on work outside the confines of my home and surely I’m going to be alone. I have been yearning for this so it doesn’t feel scary, but at the same time, I wonder if I have forgotten how to be myself. As I put together this Lego house, every once in a while I step back to admire it.
In this makeshift paradise, I am finding my comfort, I have to make the most of it. I am keeping it real but I am also trying to make a paradise out of something that’s not my comfort zone. I know this paradise is like a safety net, and no matter where I go I’ll keep coming back to it. Slowly but surely this journey is going to take me to places I’d never dare to go and I just have to make sure that my makeshift paradise is a portable one.