Walking down the hall in my dorm is second nature to me. I pass the same wooden doors pretty much daily, seeing the familiar white name tags beside them. And even as I walk into the bathroom, my feet walk on the same stonework, the room filled with the same familiar glow, I think about nothing. Yet it is in this setting that I once experienced "newness".
It was just a year ago that I visited my best friend who lived on this same hall. Except a year ago, walking on this hall had a totally different feel to it. Even the bathroom felt new, almost luxurious. Kind of like a hotel, an unfamiliar space not yet adjusted to, or a new car with that special scent that eventually fades away after being driven numerous times.
As I glance down my hall, my mind wanders to how many times in our life we experience that "new" feeling. Some, seek out that feeling and constantly travel to foreign places. Or buy new blouses, or jeans, or purses that at first have that exciting feel to them, until they are grown out of. Or go out of trend.
I think back to my childhood, how often my parents reveled at my "newness". My first step, my first word. Then growing up, my first boyfriend, car, and job. Does this "new" feeling slow down as we get older? Is that why growing older seems so depressing to some people?
As I open the door back to my room, and jump onto my raised bed (that often needs a running start to get onto) I realize that this hall, the bathroom, this dorm room, have become my own. No longer do they belong to my best friend as part of her life. And I know next year I will move out of my room, and both myself, and the person who moves into my former room will experience that new feeling once again.
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