May 27, 2004

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  Last Blog from Salem

  
  

  I will probably not take my computer down before Saturday - yes, I'm that addicted to checking my email, and writing and using the Internet to look things up now that all my reference materials are packed.  I'll be offline until the middle part of next week when I can set set up again in Arkansas.  So as I sit down this morning, I'm very conscious that I'm in the last hours of my life in Indiana and that this is the last blog I'll write from this place.  I think it's no secret that I have not been happy here.  I look around me and judge myself to be a whiner when I see the beauty of the rolling hills and quiet farms that surround my home.  How could anyone fail to be happy in such a place?

  
  

  My Mom asked me the other day whether I was crying as I was moving my things into storage.  No.  I'm not.  I look at this house, and its just a house.  It's a nice house in a lovely place, but I'm not attached to it.  This house sheltered us from the elements, but it also saw the death of my marriage in spite of the most sincere desire and efforts to save it.  I'm ready to leave it.

  
  

  I have learned some things about myself during my time here, and they aren't startling revelations.  I need people.  I don't just mean that they are nice to have around for the convenience of not having to do everything myself, I mean I need people.  I need friends.  I have lived for over five years in a community where I have literally not made a single friend.  I know people.  I am on friendly speaking terms with a variety of acquaintances.  But there is no one in this town who would call me if they were sick and needed chicken soup.  There is no one here that I could call and say, "Hey, wanna meet me at the Coffee Crossroads for a Cappucino."  There isn't a single person I could count on if I needed someone to watch my kids while I went to a dentist appointment.  Now that school is out, I'm back to the same place I was before I enrolled the boys in Public School.  Anywhere I go, the kids have to go with me. 

  
  

  My unhappiness here has not been a lack of appreciation for the wildflowers or the animals that share my living space.  I've been honored by deer, wild turkeys, a fox or two, raccoons, opossums, squirrels and chipmunks by the dozens, and don't even get me started on the rabbits.  This has been a beautiful place and that beauty has been my salvation day after day.  Even now that the cicadas are here...

  
  

  I've heard the story, I'm sure you've seen it make the Internet rounds, of the old man sitting on his porch when new neighbors drive up.  They introduce themselves, explain that they are hoping to meet people and ask what the neighborhood is like.  The old man chatted with them for a minute and asked him what their old neighborhood was like.  They tell him is was great, the people were friendly and could be counted on in a crisis.  They made good friends there and hated to leave.  He smiles at them and tells them that they will find the people in this neighborhood are the same.  Several days later the scene is repeated with another couple.  Only this time they explain that in their old neighborhood people were cold and unfriendly, they were constantly bickering and nothing was ever peaceful or calm.  He shook his head sadly and said, "Yes, people are that way everywhere and you'll find this neighborhood is no exception."  His wife asked him why he gave such different answers to the two couples when it's one and the same neighborhood.  He explained to her that it was his belief that people would find in other people what they had in their own heart.  The best way to know how these new people would view their new neighborhood was to hear them describe their old one, because people everywhere are the same. 

  
  

  Well, I have lived in more than one neighborhood.  And to a degree I believe the point of thst story.  You find what you expect and you expect based on who you are and what you know that you will give.  But I also know that this is the first and only place I've ever lived that I've had difficulty making friends.  So as I'm leaving here, I'm very mindful of the need to be open in my new neighborhood to being the friend that I want to have.  I don't know who I'll meet or what the neighborhood will be like, but I know what I'm bringing.  I have an appreciation for people of all ages and I enjoy (almost prefer) people who have a different background than my own.  I find people to be endlessly fascinating and the source of the greatest stimulus to learn new things and become a better person. 

  
  

  ... I'll be in Colorado Springs in about six weeks singing it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.  Won't it be fun to see who picks up the chorus?

  
  

     

  
  

   

  • 11:03 am
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