I didn’t expect to learn much new about myself, but did hope that a transcontinental move may offer up some unpredicted lucidity. Not surprisingly, I’ve had only one new revelation. However, I’ve had many things about myself emphasized, underscored, and underlined. One of the many is my strong connection to my environment.
I really need a nest. And it has to be a pretty nest, with lots of light and some character. It also has to be super organized and clean. Yes, I’ve happily embraced that I’m a neat freak. In fact, if my home is in order, I can deal with most other chaos quite easily. My home is like my anchor.
So given all of that you may think I’m a homebody. I think it’s a rather fun contradiction that I’m not. I love going out. I’m very social. I just need something to return to. Up until now, I’d venture out a few times and then retreat for a couple of days because I was exhausted from well, just about everything and–I’m realizing–from being homeless.
I giggle at myself a little that I feel more like me simply because I now have a San Fran home. Slowly, it’s starting to meet up to all of my criteria. It’s bright and chock full of character, but it’s still disorganized and not quite up to my standard of clean. My impatient nature isn’t so good with slow: I want my place perfect immediately. Thankfully, I’m learning that immediate takes too much energy and I’m starting to enjoy the process of setting up rather than just the results.
All in all, I feel, that’s quite a bit of progress.