The House was waiting for us when returned. Right where we left it. The spouse and the pet were happy to be home. I was relieved to be done with the traveling for a bit. But the House was there. Right where I left it.

Sometimes I kind of get used to it and don’t think about it very much. I’d like to get into that state today. It would make me more comfortable. I have so much to be grateful for. I have a warm, dry place to sleep where there isn’t any violence and where I can put some of my stuff. That hasn’t always been the case in my life. The animals have sufficient space to do what they need to do comfortably. If they need to chase or hide or stalk or whatever, they can do it pretty easily.

My internal whiner is whining yesterday and today about not really having a home. My spouse was widowed before me. My spouse is also something of a hoarder. So the house is full, and it’s full of their life together. I have to try to fit myself in the edges and the cracks of what there is.

My spouse wants to be supportive but doesn’t know how. I’ve been told to change whatever I want, that it’s my home now too. So I make some changes. To be fair, many are met with approval and encouragement. Some are not. I’ve asked for two less-important rooms of the house to do with what I want and was given the go-ahead. In one, it’s gone well. The other is much, much harder. If my spouse can’t find something that lives in that room, there is hardship for both of us.

It’s in my nature to want a swift and radical fix to any situation, so of course what I want right now is a different house. Hopefully in a different place entirely. Maybe with a different job and everything.

On our trip, we discovered a lovely little town in a lovely little area, and in it, a lovely little house that’s for sale. My brain is all over that. We could move there and in the process jettison so much redundant stuff, and we could put away so much of the life-that-was-theirs stuff and replace it with life-that-is-ours stuff. It would all immediately be fixed and we could Live Happily Ever After.

That sort of thing never works of course. That’s how I wound up with a house before, more or less, thinking that a different structure in a different place would solve all our problems, and instead we wound up with a whole new set of problems along with several of the old.

Then I remember a thing that went right. I accepted that my HP might never let me move away from the place I hated to live. So I had to find some way to accept that place and be happy with it. I realized it was the region that I hated but it had a lovely town in it. So I chose the town and my HP made available an affordable place in a delightful neighborhood. I moved in and personalized it completely and was so content with it.

I kind of tried to do that with this house. I tried to accept that my HP may require me to live here until my spouse dies, so I asked for the two rooms so that I can personalize them completely and be happy with them. But I don’t actually have one of the rooms, really. A bunch of stuff is stored there that I don’t feel at liberty to move or store somewhere else.

Maybe I need to stand up for this room. Maybe I need to relocate these things.

It’s just so much easier to daydream over the lovely little house in the lovely little town, isn’t it? And make myself miserable in doing so.

I just got back from a long weekend with my spouse, and it was wonderful. I didn’t completely expect it to be, but it worked out really well. Acceptance was the key. I need to develop more fully the practice of acceptance, of keeping my mind on right now, and turning things over to my HP.

Before the trip, I was concerned that my spouse’s control issues were going to make me crazy the whole time. The week leading up to it was anxious and fraught with tension as my lover tried to get things satisfactorily organized. My sweetheart prepares. A lot. A whole lot more than I do. And my dear heart was suffering from self-inflicted strife over it.

I did my very best to prepare what I could for my part and stay as far out of the way as possible. I didn’t want to get sucked into insanity and I believe I did rather well at that. But it was so intense that I worried it would come along with us on the trip.

It didn’t. At least mostly it didn’t. And what little control-itis crept in was easily handled by good boundaries. I didn’t take things personally and I had a great time. A really great time.