I have a great house. It took a while to get everything I ever wanted, but I have it - pretty much everything I ever thought I'd really like in a house, deep in my heart.
It's a corner lot, so not squished between two neighbors. And a lovely large yard. There's a basement and a bedroom for an office - a really big garage. The upstairs bathroom could use some work (like, a way to make it a lot bigger!) - but there is a large picture window in the living room that lights up the whole room - when there's light to be had. I can see forest and river from my window; I have a gas fireplace, and all of my electronics work - at the same time!
At yet, I feel trapped in my house.
Because I don't really have a back yard, per se, or a deck, or anyplace to be outside (where I'd love to be) that has the illusion of privacy.
In theater, the space between the stage and the audience is called the fourth wall - it's a wall that the audience and the actors agree is there, a separation of watcher and watchee, each group being in their own different reality but knowing the other is there - like a two way mirror. In television or theater, when the character looks out "past" the screen and engages the audience, that's "breaking the fourth wall."
In life, the fourth wall is what fences are for - or balconies. They are an illusion of separation of space, of worlds. An agreed upon boundary.
I want to be able to go outside and be private. To sit in my grass or work at a table; dance around or plant flowers; cry or hug trees or break plates or whatever. I want a little oasis of grounding space without feeling like everyone is watching. Or without feeling like anyone can invade my space at any time.
Hmm. How long does it take for trees to grow?
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