Interior Design

I have a fresh, new perspective.

I literally have a new perspective.  I just re-oriented the couch in the living room to the way I wanted it when we first moved into this place together.  Little cat got over her dislike of the change when she discovered she could now move from the window to the top of the couch without touching the floor.  She is playing "the floor is lava," and I am playing "I am an entire, complete human being."

He didn't like the couch in this spot because to him it meant you could only see a wall of concrete.  I see that wall of concrete, yes, but I also see a wall of windows and my own building reflected in the late afternoon sunlight.  I see spaces created and subdivided on a human scale -- carved out to hold and protect these lives we carry around.  In my view, but out of my sight, people are living their joyful, contented, complicated, messy, happy, grateful lives.  If they can do it, maybe I can, too.

Little cat comes down from her perch at the top of the couch, sniffing the cushions and silently meowing at me.  Briefly, her pupils enlarge and she pulls back into fight mode.  I understand her fear.  Change makes me want to fight, too, little cat.  I scratch her head and she relaxes, just enough.  She wanders back to her water dish, familiar and unmoved.  Meanwhile, I look out at the view and feel . . . different.  Joyful, contented, complicated, messy, happy, Grateful.