As many of you can tell I’m quite an odd dude. Well, some of you may have not even known I was a dude. Yeah, I am. And I’m odd.
I’ve been living in the same ramshackle apartment for a few years now, one with little space to be completely honest. The one thing that I’ve been horrible about in any place that I’ve lived in is hanging things on the wall. I have a few things up, a concert poster from when I saw Radiohead with my family, some sports memorabilia and work accomplishments, and a few random masks from around the world that my grandparents picked me up at what I’m assuming was World Market. Quite… boring?
But one room in my home doesn’t have one item on the wall. All four of them are blank. Let that settle for a moment, blank, white walls. This would probably drive some people mad.
I like having one room that has minimal distraction. This room has a small tv (with no channels), and a bookshelf, as decoration. I find that having nothing hung up allows me to contemplate differently. One’s surroundings can influence their thoughts and actions, and by having that in mind, I can think a little more clearly.
For artistic types, a blank canvas, piece of paper, or screen can be maddening; but it can also be quite refreshing. You have the option directly in front of you to create something new, something different, all you have to do is begin.
And by having these blank walls, I’ve come to the conclusion that when I wake up every morning and meditate, I’m doing exactly that. I’m starting a new day, a blank sheet of paper, fresh. Every day has a beginning in which you create something new and different.
My blank walls will get filled today, with new experiences, thoughts, and progress in life. And every night when I go to bed, they’re wiped clean. And I start anew, in the morning, with another blank page to complete.