Rebuilding a Family

I have thought up many complaints about how my house doesn't feel like
a home—How my immediate family doesn't seem like my real family.

I got home from California early this morning and went to my room.
It was just how I left it—my guitars in one corner, my books on the
shelf, my papers strewn atop the double-size bed.
And I realized that I had created my own cocoon. A refuge for my own
personal isolation. Everything I need (save a lasting water supply and
chamber pots) is kept in my quarters, so I need only leave when I have
various appointments—school for instance.

I realized that—though I complain about distance between the members
of our family—I was adding to the distance. Maybe I'm not the only
problem, but I'd much rather be the solution.

So from this day forward I make a pledge to use my room only when
necessary. This means sleep, and sometimes not even that. If I'm going
to be serious about this openness thing, I need to stop hiding! If I'm
serious about Loving everyone, I need to learn to really Love the
people closest (geographically & hereditarily) to me.

So, no more privacy for me.

(Coming soon: "Get Naked! — A Social Experiment ")