needs, etc.

Air, water, food, and shelter. That’s what they told me I needed in elementary school. This knowledge was attained in any other fourth grade lesson provided to my classmates and I by Mrs. Nold. I guess fourth grade was the time educators assumed you would begin looking outside of the realm of your parents, and that needs may someday need to be attained, and won’t always just be there for you to wake up to.

I imagined these things in a primitive fashion, as the idea of only basic needs being met was primitive to me. I mean, we didn’t have much, our couches didn’t match, our kitchen sink was plastic for a while, and carpet was sort of a luxury, BUT we did have couches, and sinks, and un-carpeted floor.

The basic home in my childish mind, based on primitive elemental needs, was made of mud bricks. Shelter. You’re in the middle of no where, all you have is your hands and basic tools fashioned from rocks and stones, so where do you get your walls for this shelter that will pair nicely with the water you will find and the berries you will eat? Dirt, mud, sun, stacked, and there you have it: shelter.

In my past mid-west life these needs were attained on my own accord.

Air was prevalent.

I signed a year lease, which meant my landlords paid for my water. I think I got the better end of the deal on that one. It was a garage apartment, and I don’t think things in the realm of pipes and wiring and plumbing and meters were completely separate. I paid them a monthly fee, and included in this agreement was the price of all of the water I was capable using.

Food wasn’t very difficult to come by either. While working at palace cafe, I could consume all of the soup and bread that my body could handle, and I could handle a lot of tomato bisque. A six inch vegetable subway sandwich put me back $3.26, and a breakfast bagel could be consumed for under that.

My shelter was more than mud. but not much. Home was one large room, a little kitchen that, regrettably, rarely got used, and an even littler bathroom.

And yet, despite my basic needs being met, there was still cause to leave. I chose to go the route the offered the most flexibility. Basic needs, nowadays, come with commitment. You want to live here, and find shelter? Totally fine. We’ll need you to sign a lease, though. You can totally have some water, too. But you’ll have to pay your water bill, of course. This will, consequently, alter the amount of income you will need to make, which means the consumption of water has a direct impact on where you will need to work, and consequently, your daily life. And unless you plan on spending your time gardening, food is going to cost you, too. But you’ll get a steal of a deal on the air thing. That’s totally on us.

My basic needs are all now provided by others, and nothing of me has anything to do with their daily acquisition. I breathe this very air because of my host’s hospitality. Their water is filtered, somewhere around forty-three times. There is constantly food to be found. And my room is above the second floor, which rests above the basement. All of this space comprises my shelter.

My basic needs are being provided, in abundance, by others. And yet, still cause to leave.

I listened to a pod cast on NPR a month or so ago that spoke of scientific and physics based truths that us writers and laymen like to take out of their context and apply to the mundanity of life. One is the idea that we aren’t of consequence, or special, and no other place on Earth is really any better than any other place in the galaxy. The Mediocrity Principle. The man being interviewed said that once he learned of this truth, a weight of pressure was lifted from his being.

His step father had always been fascinated with the symphony, and always dreamt of living in New York City. He packed up his family, transported them to the other side of the country, and lived out a dream-like disaster. Everyone suffered. The Mediocrity Principle meant, to the step-father’s son, that finding the perfect place was a futile endeavor, and all of our grandiose notions about places we’ve never been are only notions, nothing more, because nothing is any better than anywhere else.

This is why Physicists are likely annoyed when we do this: scientific physical principles don’t transfer seamlessly to the impractical human being. I simply don’t agree with the stepson. And that’s where I find myself. My basic needs are met, and I genuinely agree that happiness can be found anywhere, in a variety of circumstances.

But the rest of the forth grade lesson, I think, goes something like this:

Students! Quiet! Listen! Take notes! Now that I have gone over your basic needs, I would like to explain a little more. You are all different, and you will find varying levels of shelter to be more suitable. Some of you will like to share shelter with a lot of other people, and some others will only be okay with being the solo occupant of your space. Some of you may even want to invite some kind of animal to live with you, and you will be required to leave your space from time to time and take this animal you have chosen for a walk. Some of you may find that dancing brings you joy, so you may want to find your shelter near places where you can partake in this activity. A lot of space may be one of your living requirements, so some of you may need to spend more time working and gaining an income that affords you this luxury. Also, some of you may actually enjoy building this shelter, and being involved in the process. The process may be a nightmare to others, so don’t worry. You can find places that are already made. Some of you may even be lucky enough to find someone of like mind that will help you figure all of this stuff out. If you don’t, it’s okay too. You may prefer making decisions on your own. Oh, and there’s not a handbook or protocol. If they tell you otherwise, or say anything about a standard course of action, they’re lying. Tune them out. Along the way, you may find yourself in a shelter that’s unsuitable, but don’t worry. Life is full of possibility, and things can always change. Class dismissed.