Since the first room of my own beyond my parents' roof, I feel a strong compulsion from time to time to move heavy furniture. Not move the bed one foot either way, but rearrange every large item to a significantly new location. Preferably requiring sweat and brawn. On a particular day, or more specifically building over a few hours, the room in its soon-to-be-former state begins to feel stale.
At 3am or whate're the hour I can see the new room take shape in my mind's eye. It's easy to run the permutations which are usually limited in a small space. Then I set aside framed pictures, fragile items and nothing is sacred. As soon as the main architecture i.e. bed or couch is in place, moving brings tangible relief and awakening. Creativity is restored and the routine does not seem as burdensome. Likewise I am relieved by periodic shifts in food, side of the bed I sleep on, favorite color, even the route on the way to work.
Some nomadic strain is stifled and suffocated by unchanging scenery. Does this have anything to do with my itch for travel? for moving cross-country? At least moving furniture is quick and cheap.
1 comment:
At a glance this sounds like it is about moving to a new place, which is often not so much a resilience builder
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