Shower?

While the thought of traveling is fresh in my mind, I'd like to bring up something that I'm sure most everyone who has spent a few nights away from their own home can relate to. No matter how well I know the person who is allowing me to crash at their house, there is a place in their home that makes me a bit uncomfortable. This place can be escaped, but with a simple question it appears and lets its presence be known. After you wake up and exchange pleasantries, it comes: "Do you need to take a shower?" Being the type that showers daily, I respond, 'of course', and it begins.

I walk in to the bathroom and recognize the pieces: the sink, the shower stall or tub, the towel bar with a (hopefully) fresh towel waiting for me. However, this isn't my bathroom, these aren't my hand soaps and these aren't my slightly damp floor mats. I'm sure my anxiety revolves around the fact that I am naked in a 3x5 ceramic rectangle with unfamiliar knobs and hygiene products all around, but I feel like there is a larger explanation on hand.

I think it stems more from the fact that these bathrooms are often the most personal of spaces that A) only one person occupies at a time (unless you share, giggity) and B) is covered all over in the sweat, skin cells and just overall being that goes along with the cleaning of the self everyday. I think that imposing my hygiene regiment on this space takes an extra bit of willpower. This anxiety is lessened when the host has a nice guest bath that is otherwise never used by the owner, but often enough the bathroom available is the one and only in the residence and you must adapt to the surroundings.

And most of the time, this one bathroom is clean as can be without anything that would make you feel uncomfortable, say like a sinktop full of lotions or a saucer sized chunk of mold on the back of the shower wall. These types of things would make any user feel odd, but even in their absence, there lingers this urge to get in and get out.

I noticed this feeling is not present when staying in hotel rooms, perhaps the reason being that the hotel room is technically yours since you're 'renting' it for the night. It's only when using that bathroom that is mainly utilized by the host that the discomfort sets in. You don't want to mess up things they have lying around or touch a hanging wash cloth because who knows what the last thing they touched was. It's like that old kids' game where everything you touch is lava and you need to get through wherever you are without anything touching you.

Now, with all these questions, it may seem that this tension is debilitating or may prevent the shower from being taken. This is not the case, the water flows, the water drains, all is well, showers need to be taken. However, it does make me realize the power of perceived personal space. We get used to and accustomed to our private rooms where we clean and sanitize ourselves. We each have our routines and methods that differ from everyone else and those private rooms may not easily accomodate the routines and methods of others. Thinking on this reminds me to respect others' private spaces but at the same time realize that their ritual space should in no way hinder me from a simple shower. It also reminds me to clean the shit out of my bathrooms before having guests over.

Home sweet home

I have been doing a bit of traveling lately, which will be my main excuse for the recent lack of postings here. I spent some nights in nice hotel rooms as well as a few on couches of good friends. I felt I was due a good spot of vacation, some time away from my daily routine and work schedules. I did have a great time whilst away, seeing sights and enjoying things that I don't normally do. I also got to visit with friends I have not seen in quite a while. Just what I needed, right? Well, after about the fourth day out, I began to conjure wishes of being back in my own house, back to my familiar surroundings. There wasn't a certain thing in particular that drove my desires, but rather I just wanted to be back inside my sphere of comfort, of the known and familiar that I am accustomed to in my day to day life. I didn't want to actually go home, I just wanted that feeling of home to be there with me.

I thought about it more as the few days passed, and I couldn't understand why I thought the way I did. I fully enjoyed being out and about; I enjoyed new experiences and meeting new people. During these times, the above was not a problem. The problem came in those down-times between events, the time when I was left on my own to think (or sleep). No matter how nice a hotel room is or how nice a place your friend has, it just cannot give the comfort of the place you call home. This might be the definition of homesickness, but when I hear that word, I think of a kid at summer camp who is having a miserable time and just wants to go home. I, on the other hand, was having a blast and wanted to do more. It was only in those times of lull that those empty feelings set in, longing for my own haven that I am used to everyday.

Perhaps this is normal, to desire to be in that most comfortable place, a circle of safety and ease. I realize those 'down-times' I mentioned earlier are just reflections of the 'down-times' I spend in my home, alone with my thoughts. It is my space and I have no anxieties or worries when in my own surroundings. While I am in a foreign place, I will be faced with certain anxieties, small as they may be, that inhibit the comfort that my own home could offer.

I guess my big question is whether my current lifestyle is the central reason why I feel this way. I am sure there are seasoned travelers out there who rarely see their own homes and function perfectly well at all times when wandering the earth. Does the fact that I have a daily routine of work, eating, and household activities really affect my attitude toward traveling? Shouldn't I be able to separate those feelings, knowing what I am doing and when I will be returning? Maybe I am just a homebody who can act like a voyager now and again. Or maybe these feelings are perfectly normal and the desire to be in one's 'home' is just a natural condition of our existence. Of course there are the essentials to surviving such as food, water and shelter; needed for physical well-being, but I think we also must be aware of items that are essential to one's emotional well-being. These would be things like 'home' and friends and family. These things give comfort and assurance, and can be a foundation for emotional stability.

Maybe that's all I was searching for while I was wandering around, a reminder of that stability that awaits me when I return. My brain could only process so many new experiences and people before it had to stop and refuel on the assurances and permanence of the thought of the comforts of home. Being in the transient state of travel, not having my own sanctuary, I needed that knowledge that if I really needed to, I could leave at any point and return to my safe place.

This all sounds a bit more exaggerated than it really is. I was never in that bad a state of mind that it affected my attitude or behavior. Rather, it was almost a subconscious notion that was just there in the back of my thoughts. But as miniscule as the worries were, it was always comforting to know that I did have a place for myself that I could return to. My home is not only the place where I reside, it is in itself an idea that can bring peace of mind. It is a vision of comfort that can relieve the mind of the weariest of travelers.