The Absolute and the Relative

The house was new, big, and beautiful. But I knew it was a change from the even larger home out in the country that he was used to. Change is uncomfortable for everyone. I tried to make note of the positive things for him- less commute to work, lower maintenance, etc. I also admired how everything on the east coast was so spacious. The Bay Area is so crowded with people, small living quarters and very expensive.
“It’s all relative,” he said as we finish loading the dishwasher. The others had left and we had cleared the dinner table. I wanted to finish by hand washing the crystal but I could tell my host was exhausted and I, too, was losing energy.
We plopped ourselves on the couch. “I feel so claustrophobic,” he continued speaking; his voice labored by the Parkinsons. “Í used to look out the window at the beautiful countryside, and now I look out to another person’s house.”
I looked around at the family room and kitchen that seemed as large a space as a whole city block. Hmmm….. I thought.
Homes have a special connection in our lives. People laugh, love, play, relax and take shelter there. They hold an abundance of memories and emotions. It is the most cherished object and prized investment that I have seen in my practice. Yet like any thing that is held on too close, it can go from beautiful home to a dangerous prison. I have experienced people living in lavish homes by themselves who cannot afford to pay for the heating bills. I have experienced couples staying in country homes lonely and anxious because they are far from an active community.
I watched my friend struggle to get up the stairs of his new home. People stay in their homes way past the time that they should, I observed. But I also know the pain of letting go.
I never had a very solid home. I moved around a lot most of my life. When I did finally buy a home with my spouse, it was fun as we fixed it up with beautiful things that we enjoyed. Yet I hadn’t had that home more than 6 years when this accident happened and I have never seen my home again. By that time, I was well prepared from previous transitions to move on and I have a strange awareness when it is appropriate to let go of living space and move on to something else-whatever that may be.
It is quite humorous to me how east coasters view their environment differently from me.
From my point of view, everything there is large and with big expanses of land between houses and buildings. People, too, have large families, and communities have large pools. Yet, I have heard people say, “look, there is no more land to build on”. While I see a whole condo development that could possibly be built on someone’s front lawn. Ha! Ha! The relative and the absolute is everywhere we go.