Now at first, I was disturbed by all the noise and visuals of seeing everyone outside, hearing their noise, and having them looking back at me. I would go outside and complain about the auditory intrusion, proverbially casting stones from my glass house. Noise from pinball machines in some arcade across from me would loudly blare around my living room. It was all so overwhelming. I was wondering if it would get too hot in the summer with those glass panes amplifying the sun's heat, in what would essentially become a gigantic greenhouse.
Then I noticed bamboo shades all around the place in layers. Some the size of the exact tiny pane of glass that was tiled into larger panes along the wall. Others were layered over those, and covered larger areas, entirely covering several smaller panes behind. When I drew down the shades, I commented, "wow, it's not so bad in here now. I can see out a bit, and people can see there's life in here, but not specifically what's happening. It's semi-private." The outside noise and activity became less stark, and wasn't so bothersome.
Then I noticed that one of the doors actually went to a legal office next door. I don't have any idea why a legal office, but it's a dream, maybe it's the troubles I've been involved with in my past. My bad side so to speak. God knows I have one. But I remember being in a state of semi-panic, fervently trying to fix that door, as it wouldn't lock, and people were wandering into my place trying to make copies and doing other day-to-day office activity. One particularly attractive office assistant, with straight brunette hair, beautiful eyes, and dressed in a warm grey wool skirt suit, wandered in, and looked around with a confused "Hmph." Unable to find a trash receptacle, she set down an empty plastic Ziploc bag on my dining table. Slightly annoyed at my private home being turned into a trash bin, I politely spoke.
"That's my dining table! You can't be in here! This is my place now." I said.
"Really?" said the assistant.
"Yeah, just bought the place and renovated it." I said with a hint of pride.
"It's nice." she said with a smile as she slowly turned around back into the office, taking her bag with her.
I looked at that broken lock some more, worried others would just walk in at will, especially if I wasn't around to guard the place. Then, realizing I couldn't fix it, I stopped worrying about it. I stopped trying to fix the door and just accepted it. I would let people know as they wandered in, as I had done with the assistant, and it would eventually stop. The blinds gave me privacy in any configuration I needed to create privacy and shade as I saw fit at any moment. The outside hustle-and-bustle wasn't so bad either. I can go out and join it, or open my blinds and let it in when I wanted to let it in. Suddenly, it was peaceful, and I loved my new place.
So I think the lesson I am putting out there is this. Open yourself up. Get rid of that old, musty space your soul is living in and build a glass house. Cast no stones. You can draw blinds to create some privacy where privacy is needed, but still stay open to the world around you. Accept your troubles. You can't hide from them or keep them out. All you can do is become one with them, and tell them, "No more."
