Charles Dickens has an extraordinary quote about what the true essence of home is. I’m a little antsy because Google search is not stepping up to the plate so I can share it with you. The overall message is that home is not any structure but a concept that encompasses the people and circumstances that make us feel the most safe, warm and real. I'll settle with Christian Morgenstern’s “Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.” Thanks for the assist German author and poet from Munich.
I received the word that I will need to be leaving my apartment in the next few months. I’m not particularly attached to the space but I have become smitten with my Brooklyn neighborhood. People look like me. People act like me. People get me. I lived in Manhattan for 10 years and then had a short stint in the woods 45 minutes outside of Boston. The details of this particular seemingly odd choice of locales are inconsequential at this moment but(loyal readers) I’ll reveal more once we get more acquainted. While I appreciated the natural beauty of New England suburbia, I truly ached for New York’s fervor, my friends, my life and my sanity. Cobble Hill Brooklyn might be considered the lovechild of the breeding of city life and a quieter way life. Side note: Would a red state and a blue state make a purple state baby. We’ll touch on that in 2012. Back to our topic at hand.CH feels like the right place for me..and I haven’t been able to say that(and believe it) in the last few years. This new sensation of knowing a neighborhood or way of life is a fit for me is as comforting and soothing as Ann Curry’s voice.
If I have some anchors in my life, I’m alright with transition. One of these needs to be grounding me so I can deal with the shifts when other’s are awry: Health, home, work, creative outlet, (healthy) loving relationship. Part of me admits to gravitating towards seeking for creative ways to deal with ambiguous and constantly changing circumstances. That’s why I performed improv for so many years . Teaching the art of comedy improvisation, in particular, keeps me in check. After all, teachers teach what they need to learn. Right? Ehem..have you ever wondered why therapists seem to have pretty extensive issues of their own?
Dear Change,
I get you. I really do. You don’t scare me as much as you used to. I’ve thought about you more in the last few days as I’m writing from Southern California. 12 months of summer? Really? You don’t get here much. I guess I just don’t tell you enough that I appreciate your seasonal work. It’s like a really good PowerPoint presentation that demonstrates the significance of experiencing some shedding in order to experience a rebirth of sorts. It took a while, but I accept this cycle will be a constant throughout our lives. You have tested the hell out of me...but I know I'm always better for it in the end. Did you hang out with my “Brighton Beach Memoirs” director in college? He told an “over the top” actor(Jim Carey-ish) that “If every moment was a moment..there would be no moments.” I resonated with that and assumed he stole it from you. You should copy write your stuff. Wanna grab a Shawarma when I’m back in NY?
XOXO
Jax
So, in the next few months I will(once again)be sitting in a room of packed boxes and it will feel like the series finale of a sitcom. I will experience the obligatory flashbacks to all the “zany” sheee-at that went down in that space. Yes, it’s safe to assume the final scene will be a zoom in of me leaving the keys on the table as I exit. Slowly zoom out. I give one final pensive turn of the head to survey the space, do the smirk/sigh combo and then this song will fade in. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dG_5xWUf7kQ
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