Saying Goodbye Already??
My time living at home is soon coming to an end. In a short two-weeks time I will board my flight to Italy and be unleashed in the European Union for the next 90 days, with only a tentative plan of heading to Thailand after that, where I will likely take on a 10-day silent meditation retreat, and then…?
Prepping for the trip has come in many forms. From shopping for clothes, to researching destinations, to making sure I’m physically in shape and in the right mindset (to name a few.)
With the next leg of my journey creeping up, it’s only natural that I reflect on my time being home. Regardless of feeling at least somewhat satisfied by spending most of my time under the same roof as my parents, I wonder whether I’ve really taken advantage of the situation.
Family is tricky, and like anything else, relationships with your family never seem to mirror the happy-go-lucky, always saying what you mean in a kind, if not round about way, like they do in family sitcoms.
Most nights, when my dad comes home from work, the dinner that my mom and/or I have prepared is just about ready, and we set the TV room table and put on Bill Maher, The Daily Show, or something like it. After dinner, my dad proceeds to watch his favorite TV programs with his glass of wine, intermitted with picking up his guitar and practicing his favorite songs over and over again, before eventually nodding off.
My mom proceeds into her room to watch whatever shows she’s into, and I do the same.
All parties (myself included) seem silently content with this arrangement. But I can’t help but wonder whether these are missed opportunities.
Sometimes, I head to the back porch, and puff on a joint and think of all the questions I could ask, the conversations I could start, and everything I want to know about my parent’s lives. I become shrouded in guilt that I’m not more proactive in accomplishing this feat. Yet, when the next opportunity comes to make a change, it’s surprisingly difficult to, say, suggest sitting at the dinner table. It’s almost as if I’m uncomfortable with the pressure of it all, nervous that my arrival home is an interference to their comfortable routine… literally the opposite of feeling like I’m right at home.
Does being in the same room count as bonding? Or will I live to regret my content compliance? Is it a reasonable expectation that every moment should be truly meaningful and connected? Or, is the simple notion of “togetherness” enough to create meaning, even if it’s watching the news? If I don’t like the channel my dad is watching, should I watch it anyway? Or is okay to retreat to my layer and indulge in my own guilty pleasures?
I think, deep down, the underlying fear of, you know… sucking… creeps up to the surface when it comes time to make the bold choice. It’s not like my dad is particularly proactive about us bonding. Does he share the same guilt and hard to obtain desire for connection? DO we have anything interesting to talk about? My family tends to talk about logistical stuff. “What’s going on at work?” “How’s the new kitchen coming along?” “How are the kids?” And I’m like, “N/A. But, what if the world was inverted?”
Sometimes I just feel like such a weirdo… like a misfit who doesn’t really belong anywhere in particular. I enjoy deep conversation and watching trees sway. The beauty and sadness of life often brings me to tears. I can spend an entire get together with friends and family wondering if I’m coming off as strange, feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.
On my best days, I lean into it. In fact, I am a little weirdo. It’s funny that I’ve spent time worrying about whether I’m too normal, but then when I really tap into who I am and see all of the oddities, that’s scary, too.
There’s room for me to be a weirdo, and anyone who wishes I were different can, you know… go fuck themselves.
I did it, though, just the other night. I simply sat us around the dinner table to have our dinner. I’m happy to report that conversation was easy and fluid, if not grandiose. I don’t remember specifics, but I remember some laughter, and that it was friendly and I didn’t even worry about being weird.
It was just what I needed in order to remember that it’s easy enough to connect, and I look forward to disrupting the usual routine during the next couple of weeks, while I have the chance.
