Same House, New Perspective

It happened to me.

From the moment I came home from the hospital as a newborn baby until I left for college, I slept in the same bedroom. It was my room. Baseball cards, a few books, and other “valuables” were spread across my dresser. A Nerf hoop was clipped to the back of my door. The same two posters hung on my closet all throughout high school – John McEnroe and Peter Frampton.

Then I left for college in the fall of 1987, and when I returned for Christmas break, it was different. Technically, it was still my bedroom because dad had left my bed in there. The posters were still there. But he had moved in a desk with an office chair, a filing cabinet and a phone, and a television. He had converted my bedroom into a home office.

I had mixed feelings about it. While I loved (finally!) having a television in my room, I wasn’t so fond of the big desk and cabinets.  Although being in college had converted me into more of a visitor than an occupant, I still had this strange sense that someone was invading my space. I told dad I drew the line at removing the posters. He do anything else he wanted, but the posters had to stay.

Fast-forward to 2021.

We’ve owned our current house since 2012. When we moved in, our daughters had their own bedrooms. We let them pick out the paint colors, string lights across the ceiling, and add pictures and posters to their walls (no McEnroe’s or Frampton’s). Our oldest daughter left for college in Minnesota in 2015, graduated in 2019, and has been teaching high school in Minneapolis for the last two years. Our youngest daughter attends the University of Northern Colorado, a school about 90 minutes away. She’s close enough to come home on occasion and still spends the summers with us.

Two daughters, two bedrooms. One room has remained a bedroom. The other has become our office.

I’m writing this post from the same house but with a different perspective. Our new second floor office has a window that faces west. Here in Denver, that means you’re facing the mountains. In between sentences, I can look up and see the Front Range. There’s a scattering of snow along the east-facing slopes.

This view has been available the entire time we’ve lived in this house. But we weren’t able to enjoy it (meaning mom and dad) until we made a few changes.

Certainly new houses bring new perspectives. New neighborhoods offer new friendships. New romances promise new feelings and emotions. New clients hold new opportunities. But what if a new perspective – or friendship or opportunity – didn’t require a massive relocation but simply a few minor adjustments?

Truth is, there are many windows in our house and each window offers its own perspective. One or two might allow me to study the siding on my neighbor’s house, another might open up to the Rocky Mountains. If the only windows I chose to look out are directed at my neighbor’s siding, I might begin to believe the world is as exciting as vinyl siding. Even worse, my world might shrink to fit my window.

Are there times when relocation is necessary? YES! You might find yourself stuck in an environment where the best view available is harmful or detrimental to your wellbeing. If a boyfriend is constantly belittling and demeaning you, it is time to find one who offers you a different perspective on yourself.

But is relocation always necessary? NO! It might be that you need to experiment with your room arrangements. Some furniture might have to be removed to make room for new pieces. It might be as simple as opening the blinds and finding that there is a new world you’ve been shutting out.

What you might find is that the new perspective isn’t external but internal. In other words, you might change addresses or relationships and take your old windows with you … think about that one for a minute!

Same house, new perspective.

It happened to me … twice. It can happen to you, too.