Claustrophobia and the Little Box

My friend Peter once said, "It's not the sheer number of people you know that surprises me; it's the varying types of people you're friends with that is astonishing.' Or as Brent once said, "When I hang out with Donna I have to be prepared to float the river in the day and possibly go to a ball in the evening."

If you've read my blog, you've noticed a theme. I write, sing, draw, paint, swim, ski, travel, work at several and varying types of jobs and will generally do just about anything. I even love to play sports, so long as there is no commitment tied to the sports. I won't promise I'll be any where any week at the same time. Every kind of music speaks to me, and I haven't found a food yet that I won't eat. I like to be unpredictable and I want to learn about everything there is to learn about!

I cannot stand to be confined by time schedules, what I should or am supposed to be doing, age constraints, social constraints, location constraints, or (the worse thing I can think of) personal confinement issues. As my friend Kerstan has said, "My biggest pet peeve is people's pet peeves."


I realize that everything has some degree of predictability to it. Even being someone who hates a schedule, hates doing the same thing on any given day -even avoidance of repetition is its own degree of repetition. But, I can't stand it when people paint things out of their life. For instance, people who say they don't like this food or that food. Have you ever tried it? 'No, it just seems icky! I just think it would be gross! The texture bothers me.' Very annoying. By the way, if you're one of those people, don't ever try sex. It sounds very gross.

Everyone enjoys painting themselves into their little box. People lie and say, 'Don't label me!' Then they grab their case of canned Bud Light beer and head out yonder to a turkey shoot bonfire party in Pelion. Or put on their Southern style bow-tie and head to the weekly Monday evening Young Republicans meeting. The biggest conformists I can think of are those little Emo kids with their "I refuse to conform" black nail polish, black eye liner and black lipstick.

This is your box. This little world you have painted around you until there is no canvas left above you or below you to imagine a different space or time. This is your blanket next to you on your couch next to the love seat, in front of the television, inside the walls of the box you call home. Just like 7 billion other people. Oh God! I think I'm hyperventilating!

Friends and I have been talking for years about traveling. "Let's just wait a few more months until we have more money, then I'll be ready to go with you." Years pass. All the while, all of these friends fantasize aloud that we should go here or go there- just as soon as we get some money saved. Don't you realize this is America? Statistically, the likelihood that you are going to save money is very slim. No, seriously. I've even heard there's a national problem associated with American's lacking ability to save. Check it out.

I feel as though we have painted ourselves into [this] waiting room of life, and I want to go live! I need space and change and fresh air! How will I ever learn about everything when I fill my box with so very little things?

Travel can be very inexpensive. What's the worst thing that can happen? We run low on money and get jobs and paint ourselves into the waiting room of Cancun? Or Paris? Or San Jose? I can do anything. No, seriously, I do everything well. So what? I'll just easily pick up waiting tables again until I get money to come home. Or perhaps I'll fall in love with a beautiful 3 bedroom 2 bath box Denison, Iowa.