A Sense of Place...?

When we first moved down to Portland, we lived with my husband's parents briefly, then moved in with some extremely kind and gracious friends, and their octogenarian mother. They didn't seem to mind that we had tons of stuff and two dogs. And they had two dogs. And three of the dogs are big. And they all like to run around together. Fast. On wood floors.

At first, it was really disorienting to move into someone else's home. We were encouraged to make the house our own, invite friends over, etc. So, we really moved in. Undies in the drawer. Toothbrushes in the holder. Art on the walls and books on the shelves.

We were treated to gourmet meals and a housecleaning service. We quickly adapted to having a commercial espresso machine at our fingertips. And we learned to pick up after ourselves and keep everything but our own room tidy.

It still felt weird. Like reverting to childhood where your room is your sanctuary and the rest of the house is your parents' domain. It was hard to feel comfortable cooking in someone else's kitchen. I mean, what if that salt I used was the last of some special salt from a rare sea that ran dry in 1893? I would feel terrible.

It felt weird not to wander around naked looking for my glasses. (Now I wander around in my robe looking for my glasses.) And it felt weird to virtually always have someone else around the house. It turns out I get very stressed out by not having some time each day to be completely by myself.

The dogs, however, acclimated quickly. If anything, they're happier sharing space with other dogs and humans. Their sense of place seems to be defined by where their dog bed is, where the food container is kept, and meals on a regular schedule.

It turns out, they don't even need us. We shuttled them around for two weeks before settling in with our friends, then we sent them off to stay with my parents for a week while we went to Hawaii. They did great! Loved it. Why? They had their dog bed and they knew exactly where the food container was at all times.

Personally, I'm not sure of my human equivalent to doggie beds and Scooby snacks. Privacy and aloneness are important pieces. I need to be outside of anyone else's thoughts and space, so I can fully tune in to how I'm doing and what I care about. I find I can't do that very well unless I'm completely alone.

That's a good thing to know before building a new house. I wonder what it would cost to add an isolation tank to the unfinished basement...