I am surprised sometimes when I look around and the trappings of my life are gone.
Some of them.
I’m in my office and here’s what happened to get me to this point of blank walls and space on the shelves. I looked around my office one day not so long ago and I saw photos of me, my partner, my family, my business, then more of me. Big ones, small ones and some in a packet on the shelf. I saw a poster of Portlandia and two wall calendars. On my shelves were stacked books upon books, stuffed alongside with CDs. On my desktop were piles of folders and stray papers, spreadsheets and notes. Against all four walls were plastic boxes of files and maps and grocery bags full of stuff temporarily placed and waiting for someone to move them on. Hanging from the curtain rod was a boomerang. Somehow, when I looked around on that one day not so long ago, the room, which has been my office for more than three years, just did not feel right anymore.
The photos and posters seemed wrong, and so I took them down, fully intending to rearrange and put them back up. The books were overwhelming and the folders had become relics of projects long past. The boxes and bags weighed my room down, filling it with heaviness. And the boomerang? A souvenir. This was over a month ago and now, as I look around, I see just a few things on the walls – a poster of doors, which I like for some reason, an eco version of a calendar, a small printout of a photo of my partner, and an old license holder that says Les Bons Temps Rouler.
Nothing else has made it back up on the walls yet, and I cannot think of anything that could.
My room is in transition, shedding the old and waiting for the new to arrive. I know this room is a reflection of my journey, as it is my room, the one room in the house that is not shared, and so, I wonder – what belongs on the walls now?