Place

I have little attachment to places in comparison to most people I know. I have enjoyed changing locations during my adult life, despite the obvious hassles and financial ramifications of moving. Learning a new place feels like an adventure to me. To many others, it seems to be a great toil.

I have been lectured to by friends and acquaintances who have said, "You'll never find a perfect place to live." They assumed I was looking for perfection when I was looking for affordable rent, a peaceful environment or simply a more convenient commute to work. I have seen many people live through torture in order to stay put and not have to move. That puzzles me.

I gave up the quest for permanence decades ago. When I was eleven, a series of losses occurred which depressed me deeply. When I emerged from my suicidal depression later in my adolescence, I did so with a coming to terms with the inevitability of impermanence and loss in everything. I was not endowed by nature or nurture with a serene disposition. Grasping the reality of change was a great help to me in wrestling with my demons. Nothing lasts forever, not even demons.

My comfort with change makes some people in my life wary. Those who want to achieve unshakable tenure in my positive esteem without treating me with respect or candor are disappointed. I do not wish to permanently own anyone or to be permanently owned by anyone, as the marriage myth promotes. I have been owned in the minds of two parents, now deceased. That was enough of that experience for a lifetime. 

My place is where I am in the moment. The structure where I live is simply a safe harbor from the elements. It is like an umbrella. It can be put aside when no longer needed. It is not an appendage or part of my identity.  Trying to put down roots is a functional behavior for those who need roots to feel anchored against life's changing seas. However, living with the flexibility of surfing life's seas by adapting to its changes can also be a highly functional strategy.