SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2017
Creating a Home Away from “Home”
Happy Blogtime did, indeed, see the light – but then came back before she went for it – she had some unfinished business. A pro blogger recently told me that the worst postings you can make are the ones apologizing for not posting – then you just have a blog full of annoyed sentiments. Which is true.
But back to happytime. Which, in reality, life has truly been. My new job at MBP has been an utter joy, really, and it makes me even happier to be able to say that. It’s been a long time coming. Sure, money is still tight, and I’m pretty positive that for as long as I live in New York, it will be – but the financial stresses I was experiencing even as close as a few months ago have waned.
I even went as far as to have thoughts of staying in New York for the long run. When I moved here, I saw this city as a place to conquer and then leave once I accomplished what I had to for my career. It wasn’t a place I ever thought of settling down in, or to make a home. I’ve been saying for years that I’ll eventually move back to Boston to settle down after I stay here for a bit – but now that I have more stability, an amazing job and the opportunity to have explored some of the finer crannies of the big city’s boroughs, I’ve seen elements of this world that could suit me for the stretch.
Click “Read More” for more wax-domicile.
I recently moved to Park Slope, Brooklyn just this past month. Among the plethora of babies, happy young couples, birds chirping and the smell of coffee bubbling from streets lined with quaint cafes, organic markets and boutiques, I’ve seen a part of NYC that is gentle and abundant enough to be called “home” – without the pretentiousness and off-putting ritz that so many parts of the city offer. In my “new’ Park Slope apartment (and I put “new” in quotations because, it’s in fact, a wonderful but very OLD living space – a fixer-upper, if you will) I’ve laid down tiles, painted things, hung pictures and filed books on shelves – things I avoided doing in my previous living spaces because I saw no point: I wouldn’t be living there forever. In mentally living like a vagabond, I subconsciously created a discomfort and underlying anxiety that wouldn’t quit until I decided to make whatever environment I was in a place that I wanted to stay.
I know I’m not going to be in this apartment forever; I might not be in it for more than a couple of years. But the lesson is that you should make your space your own. Decide what kind of life you want to have and create it – even if that only means taking the time to prop up a photo on a desk or light a candle, or welcome a plant into your room. At least, that’s what’s worked for me.
I’ve also learned that, in your mid-twenties, if you’re too sure about anything, you’re most likely in need of questioning it.