When I realized that I didn’t really feel at home in my home, I started the quest to make it homier. More cozy. More peaceful. More pleasing to my aesthetics. The ultimate goal here was for my body to signal to my brain that it’s time to decompress every time I walk through the door.
It’s still a work in progress, especially now as I consider and work towards buying a place of my own -- a blank canvas unconstrained by the terms of a lease and security deposit.
Read: Real Estate
Nonetheless, I am still hovering around this concept of decompression, of peace, because: where do we go where our heads get too loud?
Where do we retreat when the one place you want to escape is always with you. Atmospheric triggers aside, sometimes it’s hard for me to find stillness in a mind so noisy. In response, I like to challenge my brain to shut off by depriving it of all the sensory triggers. I stand in the shower, in darkness and silence and push all my thoughts to the wayside as I bask in the warm water. I suppose this is some form of meditation although it’s usually sparked by desperation that screams:
Will you just shut up for one second?
But, this is a musing largely rooted in growth. Because what I’m learning about the noise is that, much like emotions, it doesn’t have to ravage freely, scorching everything in sight. A hyperactive mind can be trained to use its powers for good and not evil in the same way that emotions learn to be important, but not in control.
I still haven’t found the perfect escape route, knowing that the best way out is through, but when life gets too loud I relish in the small moments of relief I am able to squirrel away. There’s a peace that comes with setting boundaries, even with yourself.
Read: Baby Steps
I’m working on becoming a walking emblem of the things I value most so that my presence creates an atmosphere I’m always comfortable in.