Monday, September 4, 2006

Sep 04 2006

I spent a fair amount of this morning cleaning up from the weekend’s activities. My parents were over, helping me with further renovations to my house. That’s been going on for weeks now, as I try to finish up most of the unfinished things that I’ve been living with for almost two years now. My parents have been great in helping me out; true professionals, doing all sorts of stuff and dealing with my mood swings.

Now, my stairwell—where I’ve hung most of my anime cels—feels more like an art gallery that shows off my cel collection. I tiled the backsplash in my kitchen, replacing peeled and torn wallpaper. My house feels more like a home now.

And yet again, I’m surprised at how important that is. I feel good when I live in a spiffy house. My environment does affect me.

Though perhaps I’d do well to work on that aspect of my personality. To quote:

A little criticism makes me angry, and a little rejection makes me depressed. A little praise raises my spirits, and a little success excites me. It takes very little to raise me up or thrust me down. Often I am like a small boat on the ocean, completely at the mercy of its waves. All the time and energy I spend in keeping some kind of balance and preventing myself from being tipped over and drowning shows my life is mostly a struggle for survival: not a holy struggle, but an anxious struggle resulting from the mistaken idea that it is the world that defines me.
— Henri Nouwen

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