
My latest experiences call for interrupting the steady flow of Germanisms in American English in this column and for replacing at least today’s attempt at exploring a term with exploring hotels. Specifically, mattresses. And trust me, I’m not trying to sell you a particular brand. I’d just like to share with you on what thoughts I woke only recently.
My husband and I have been traveling and staying overnight in hotels and Airbnbs quite often, in the past few weeks. I won’t talk price ranges because they hardly mean anything depending on where you’re going at what time of the year and whether there is a big event around. I’m not talking width of bed either. I’m talking comfort of … mattresses.
Because the other day I woke in a hotel bed in the middle of the night and tried to turn around but could barely do so. The mattress that initially had felt so comfortable bore my imprints but didn’t bear with my desire to change my position. And in the morning, my first attempt to get up was almost thwarted because my hands sank even deeper into the material than my body had. I wondered what a less agile person with more weight would do about finding themselves on such a mattress.
That again triggered the thought that a mattress is pretty much what one’s childhood home and environment could be compared to. I grew up in surroundings that were supportive but certainly not soft. I knew where I would meet with resistance as to what I otherwise might have ambled into. I had a firm backing when I planned on doing supportable things such as career plans or the urge for creativity. I was never told that I was anybody special; rather, it was always implied that I could (and should) do better. I had nobody to blaze the trail for me when it came to stage performances, going to university while jobbing as a sales associate, becoming a journalist and editor-in-chief, in emigration/immigration, in creating a life as a military spouse and as an author. I’m even sure that a lot of my decisions met with disapproval because of a lack of understanding for my respective situations in life.
Haven’t all of us been in such places at one time or another? But that same firm background, our mattress of life, enabled us to make such incomprehensible, thus unpopular decisions. We are in the place we are because we bounced off the hard mattress and hopped on our own feet.
I am pretty sure that a mattress that is always giving in turns any attempt to try to get off on one’s own feet into an effort and, in the end, makes one slump back and give up. Unless there are people lifting one up and smoothing the path while handing out crutches at each and every moment, one won’t get anywhere. The muscles of self-reliance will have become too dystrophic, and the support of telling anybody they were somebody special when they haven’t accomplished anything vital for their own future, yet, will only further a feeling of entitlement.
On the other hand, some people’s background is not just a hard mattress but a nailbed. Wherever they turn, they get hurt. They literally can’t rely on anything or anyone and will jump off in distrust and anger. It will be hard to persuade them that there are any mattresses that will support them; and the nailbed might send them straight for down beds that give no support at all, but promise softness and fluffiness – the world of drug illusions and crime money, the path downward.
Of course, there are always exceptions to the rules. Somebody might take their nailbed and turn it around, then look around for a real mattress. Another might want more resistance for their soft bedding, maybe some rougher fabric than the silk lining of their nest.
In coming home from our trips, I find that, now without any metaphor, we chose just the mattress that fits our needs best. One that is hard enough for support, with a soft, warm top layer for comfort. We can move any direction, we stay warm, we can get up and land on our own feet with ease. In the end, there is a lot of truth to the old adage that as one makes one’s bed, one must lie on it. Our decisions are who we become.
I went back to this post a day or two after it went up. I find no comments (it’s Sat, the 8th). I am shocked. This is one of Susanne’s best, well thought out and written postings so far.
Thank you Susanne. Well done.