Sometimes, I wish we could just pick a single spot we love and then stick with it.
Heck--I'd even take the ability to pick a particular kind of spot, say suburbia or The Big City or the plains states or coastal dwellings.
But instead, we have to move around a lot, liking bits and pieces of the places we live, longing for bits and pieces of the places where we used to live, never quite entirely content.
At times, I find myself feeling that there could be nothing better in the world than to live by myself in Boston for the rest of my days, perched in some apartment or other, dashing in to collect the mail from the boxes in the entrance, hastening up the stairs and collapsing in front of the TV with a microwave meal heating up while I indolently flip channels.
At other times, I think there could be nothing better than to buy a small house in Utah County somewhere near where my parents live and use my time off during weekends and holidays to drive so far up into the canyons that the sound of coin-leafed aspens murmuring to themselves almost makes me forget civilization even exists.
I find myself thoroughly enjoying myself here and wondering what life would (or will) be like once my program's finished and I'm left to my own devices as a young professional. I can feel the appeal of this place: the sometimes frenetic vitality that surges through the city, imbuing all its inhabitants with a sense of friendly urgency.
But I miss the quiet nights looking up at the milky way as it swings over mountain peaks and valleys; I long for the sight of the horizon, the rising and falling of the land.
Why is there always something in us that keeps itself aloof from full happiness, as though our full measure of contentedness is something we simply can't attain here? I wonder if it's simply that there are so many places on Earth to love, but they're always off; they never quite mirror the home we knew before; they're always just imperfect copies of a perfect standard.
And we, after all, are imperfect folks who try to love these imperfect copies.
All in all, I think it's a pretty fair accomplishment to love any corner of this world as it is. And I have to confess: I'm learning to love it here.
6 comments:
Amen.
Find yourself a park with a hill and some trees. Then lie down in the grass and watch the clouds go past. It helps to connect things everywhere.
Then, while you are at the park...go play on the swings and the slides for no reason at all than to have fun. :D
The good news is that practically anywhere you live has many qualities to love. :)
I feel the same way, after moving in on campus. I find it strange that I like all the people around- I thought I'd hate it.
Wouldn't it be cool to live in a place that has all of your favorite elements? Yeah, it'll never happen, so I guess we all might as well learn to like the different-ness of the places we're currently planting our feet. I'm glad you're liking Boston. I hear you, though -- the East Coast is very different from the West -- not bad, just different. But I'm also learning to like it. :)
My dear, having been through the grueling ordeal of house hunting for the past three weeks, and having finally locked in on The One, I empathize. A house is much like a location in general: there is not a single one that is perfect and without problems. Yet, it is possible to find the right one, even if the perfect one will always be an unreachable goal. (Like men?) Someday your soul will feel satisfied with where you are, and even though it will not be everything you wanted, it will be the place where your compass comes to rest.
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