When I travel, it often takes me a while to settle in when I reach my final destination. Part of the reason is that I know it's not my final destination. My final destination is home again so often I think what is the point? All this packing, unpacking and repacking again.
While most normal people hit a hotel room and immediately stuff their crap into hotel dressers, spread their travel kit contents across bathroom countertops and hang their clothes within the hotel closets - I am quite the opposite. It's not until day two or three that I begin to settle in. Take things out. Make myself at home. Until then you can find me groping an extended arm into my wheeling suitcase reaching for my toothbrush only to zip it all up once again when I am finished.
I'm not sure where I developed this resitance to settling in. It could be as simple as being lazy. But I recall being like this in college as well. I went to an all women's college in the south where decorating your room was taken to the extremes. While the majority of the women were busy turning their freshman dorm rooms into mini B&B's - frilly throw pillows, leafy plants, wicker baskets full of magazines, etc. - I barely unpacked. By the time parents weekend came and my mother inquired about the three cardboard boxes still full and now serving as a night stand, I just shrugged and said, "What's the point? I'm leaving in a few years anyway."
E is a big inspiration in this area. Take for example our recent arrival in Maine. While the cabin hadn't been boarded up for the summer, it certainly needed some settling in. The moment we got here E ran about putting out lawn furniture, mowing the lawn, pushing curtains back and emptying the back screened porch of it's various contents - canoes, paddles, etc. He set up the hammock between two birch trees. He fixed the mini grill. He even put bird seed in the bird feeder. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be satisfied keeping my wheeling suitcase in the trunk of the rental car and curled up in the dark (curtains drawn) reading a book on a cushionless porch chair or even in the canoe.
Despite only being here three nights though, I am starting to see the point to all this. When you take the time to do these little things it really does matter. I feel much more relaxed then I might not having really committed to being here. For now I am off for a swim. E has wheeled the giant black inner tube down to the pond and I plan to joing him. Bob around for a while in the warm sun. Take in the mountain view. Settle in.