Shakespeare once erroneously wrote that: “Journeys end in lovers meeting.”
Now it should be stated that I do maintain a lifelong subscription to this prodigious life-penner and his works. But in reference to this statement? Well this is one, Will, where there is simply no way.
It’s not that I don’t believe in fate. Or journeys. Or the act of making acquaintance. And I definitely believe in love: epic love that rocks your socks (and jocks) off and makes you feel both more energized and peaceful than you’d ever imagined possible. Like a human lava lamp: constantly bubbling and reforming in unique, exciting shapes every moment. This is what I see both a great love and life boiling down to. A frenetic, fluid force that warps and contorts but never fails to give off light.
By contrast, the fateful finality with which Willy-S refers to love/life makes me think of the grand chandelier in Beauty and the Beast. Raised aloft in priceless perfection many years ago. Beautiful from a distance, but gathering dust.
But what’s lamp got to do (got to do) with it?
Well, ladies and lumieres, during a recent ‘D&M’, a dear buddy of mine had the innovation to liken personal development to a home reno. Much like the ‘body is a temple’ terminology, he sees our body and soul as a house that we must both inhabit and maintain as well as restore and renovate when our life’s ‘spirit level’ seeks to rebalance.This house, as with life, is both a place for relaxation and inspiration; for motivation and perspiration. It is space for love to live and illuminate (like lamps; geddit?), if we let it. But, more important than all - it is never ‘finished’. There’s always a room for improvement.
Now I’ve never really been a domestic goddess, but I am an avid bedroom philosopher and this theory started me thinking about my life’s blue-print.
So recently it occurred to me that I’ve been searching subconsciously for ‘completion’. For the perfect ‘estate’, rather than a state of mind. Like newlyweds with new money, I’ve been trying to hastily develop myself into haphazard McMansion. I’ve been rendering my walls and double-bolting my doors before I even laid a solid foundation.
My whole life I’ve been developing. I’ve been accumulating colour charts and works of art that I feel reveal my personal palate. I’ve been trying to build a solid roof over my head. I’ve been working out the right sized windows that both let me see the world and seclude myself when I so choose. There have been times when I’ve let people overstay their welcome. They convinced me to knock down some walls only to have them rebuilt in double brick. They left me feeling like my house would never be ready for auction.
And that’s how I’d been managing my estate: like a project. A property to perfect the image of by Sale Day; as though one day it would be done, dusted and ready for a down-payment.
estate talk? Recently it has hit me that life is much more complex and infinite than that. My goal is no longer to reach my ‘highest potential’ (or potential buyer), but to live within this potential. Every day. To view each day as a chance to build something new and see how each of my grand designs develop by the light of a lava lamp. It’s time to love the walls I live in. In fact I may knock them down all together. Maybe it’s time to try open-plan?
I may not be much of domestic deity. Indeed, I decided if I was bestowed with a summer vacation I owed my vacuum the same courtesy. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be house proud. Or make every surface a ‘feature wall’ once I learn how to hang a painting. And learn how to paint, for that matter.
However grotty, grandiose or lily-guilded my abode may be, I’ll never stop renovating and reinterpreting who I am. Because was it not also Bill Shakespeare that said: ‘This, above all: to thine own self be true’?