Creating space

Something strange started happening about a week ago. On a Wednesday in the middle of the night I suddenly out-grew my bunk bed. I found myself waking up repeatedly to the sound of my foot kicking the ceiling light, knee trapped in the blinds, head bumping the ceiling and fist punching the wall. Trapped in an ever-shrinking shoebox I needed to break out.
In assessing my bruises the next morning I fought the idea that I might actually be too big for a bunk bed, and that I really was an adult in an adult-sized body. I contemplated sleeping on the couch, cuddling in bed with Jackie, and even blowing up the airbed on the front porch, but for some reason I just couldn’t contemplate sleeping on the leather, spooning my roommate, or waking up to the neighbors cat on my head.
It was time to have “the” talk. First Jackie… No, she didn’t like the idea of switching rooms and allowing rent to remain fixed. …I just figured she would appreciate the easy access to the restroom and was probably getting lonely in such a big room all by herself. Second, Walt (the landlord)…No, he didn’t think a major renovation to push the wall of my room out into the side yard was necessary….Rats! Left with no where to go but up (literally, into my ceiling) I decided maybe the double pillow top mattress with super soft foam pad and down topper was a little much, and I possibly needed to turn down the princess factor and downsize….
Four hours in the kids section of Ikea with my mom left me with one tantrum about three tears shed and a longing to have been left in the ball pit with the other brats. (For some reason Ikea always seems to be a major test of physical mental and emotional endurance…and quite frankly I just can’t hack it!)
I carried my new mattress tucked firmly under my arm and weighing only about 8 pounds into my house. I marveled at how similar it looked to the one pound backpacking air mattresses my family had once used, and wondered if in fact their was a valve with which I was to blow it up.
It felt good to wrestle the old mattress off of its platform, until I rolled out my new non-inflatable yoga mat. My mom carefully made my bed shifting from the head of the bed to the foot, and side to side meticulously tucking and folding. She finished asking, “What do you think?!” Peeking my head over the foot of the bed I couldn’t help but think of that trick where the magician rips the tablecloth off the table and all the dishes and silverware stay set in their places. Only the Magnificent Nancy could rip a whole mattress off of a bed leaving the pillows, sheets and blankets intact.
Despite drifting off to sleep last night feeling far less like a princess and a bit more like an internment camp detainee I realized perhaps this is a step in growing up. Sometimes the cozy world we are used to becomes a little restricting and we need to give ourselves a bit more space to grow into. (Like six inches more…it makes a big difference!)