I didn't choose to live here. And if I had the chance to choose, I probably wouldn't choose this place. I have no particular averison to El Paso, but it's not my ideal home. There are other places in this country that I would much rather be. This has me thinking: why do we settle where we do?
I know for most people it has to do with proximity: proximity to home, proximity to family, proximity to the only worlds we know. But for others who don't limit themselves, what is the motivation to choose one place over another?
In truth most of us could live anywhere in the country (or outside of it for that matter) that we wanted. What makes one choice better than another? What makes that man choose the house in the country surrounded by hills where the nearest neighbor is not really near at all? What makes that family choose that little spot in the desert where there is nothing visible except the road leading away?
Some things I understand. I know why people choose to live in New York City. I know why they like LA. What I don't understand is why we gravitate towards these out-of-the-way places that don't make sense. Why would someone choose to live in the desert where there is no anything: phone, cell phone, Internet, cable etc.? The same could be said of the hill country. Some places seem like they would be more miserable than anything else. So why do we keep ourselves trapped there?
I know there are a lot of rhetorical questions here, and I'm not sure I'm really even looking for answers. I don't know that any explanation will adequately explain why we choose to limit ourselves when it comes to a homestead.
Thomas Wolfe said, "You can't go home again." What if you didn't want to?
2.09.2011
2.07.2011
It's Counterintuitive...
Snow on the desert is something to see. It doesn't belong there. It doesn't blend with anything. And it seems such a shame to get it dirty that way.
It does brighten things up a bit. Everything is so brown and dead and lifeless in winter, especially in places that are brown, dead, and seemingly lifeless all the time. At least that's how it seems. But when snow falls on a desert, we are able to realize that it is fuller of life than we might like to think.
There are tracks all over the place, and none of them look the same. Some of them are coming toward the road, but most are moving away from it. I wonder if the animals who made them arrived at civilization and decided it was a mistake. I can't say I blame them.
Aside from the occasional animal wanderer, there is nothing in the desert to disturb the sparkling white blanket that was dumped there by a weather system that seemed to have lost its sense of direction. It remains pristine until the sun finally realizes that it has a job to do and melts it away.
Snow is nice; they wouldn't call it a winter wonderland if it wasn't. But it just doesn't belong in a desert.
It does brighten things up a bit. Everything is so brown and dead and lifeless in winter, especially in places that are brown, dead, and seemingly lifeless all the time. At least that's how it seems. But when snow falls on a desert, we are able to realize that it is fuller of life than we might like to think.
There are tracks all over the place, and none of them look the same. Some of them are coming toward the road, but most are moving away from it. I wonder if the animals who made them arrived at civilization and decided it was a mistake. I can't say I blame them.
Aside from the occasional animal wanderer, there is nothing in the desert to disturb the sparkling white blanket that was dumped there by a weather system that seemed to have lost its sense of direction. It remains pristine until the sun finally realizes that it has a job to do and melts it away.
Snow is nice; they wouldn't call it a winter wonderland if it wasn't. But it just doesn't belong in a desert.
2.06.2011
Sitting in Judgement...of Me
I hold myself to standards that, thankfully, I do not apply to anyone else. At least when I let myself down, I'm the only one I can be angry with.
Why do we expect so much from ourselves and so little from others?
In the recent crisis that has afflicted El Paso and completely crippled the city, I find myself wondering how it came to be that I find myself questioning whether I should pick up the slack for others in the city who don't feel the need to obey restrictions on water and other utilities. It throws into sharp perspective how self-centered and entitled I can be sometimes.
I am bothered by the fact that we are being told to consume as little water as possible (to the point of not bathing ourselves). I don't like that I am paying for bottled water when I have a perfectly fine filter in the refrigerator. I don't like that there is an eminent possibility that we may, as a city, run out of water.
Then I remember that I have a warm home to sleep in. I have a nice, soft bed to crawl into at night. I have food to eat and clean clothes to wear. My pipes didn't burst, and my ceiling didn't cave in. I have a car to take me where I need to go to acquire the things that will make this whole experience easier. And don't these things count for something?
Realizing this question has led me to ponder myself as a person and whether or not I am as good and decent as I like to think I am. This is no attempt to garner self-worth from external sources of validation. I'm just wondering when it is going to be enough. Will I ever be happy with what I have? The very fact that I have to ask this question of myself is painfully telling. I know what the answer should be. I know what I would like for my answer to be. I also know what my reality has become, and I am ashamed.
Funnily enough, I don't hold other people to the same standards. You can want what you want when you want it and get it and go on wanting as much as you like, and I think no less of people who live that way. I almost expect it of everyone else, and I wonder if they expect the same thing of me. The difference is that there comes a moment when I stop and chastise myself for thinking and behaving the way I do. Then I continue doing what I've always done. I wonder how many of us think these things and never say anything about them. We just go on living the way we want to fulfill what we believe to be everyone else's expectations.
Is this how life really is? Is this how it's going to be?
Why do we expect so much from ourselves and so little from others?
In the recent crisis that has afflicted El Paso and completely crippled the city, I find myself wondering how it came to be that I find myself questioning whether I should pick up the slack for others in the city who don't feel the need to obey restrictions on water and other utilities. It throws into sharp perspective how self-centered and entitled I can be sometimes.
I am bothered by the fact that we are being told to consume as little water as possible (to the point of not bathing ourselves). I don't like that I am paying for bottled water when I have a perfectly fine filter in the refrigerator. I don't like that there is an eminent possibility that we may, as a city, run out of water.
Then I remember that I have a warm home to sleep in. I have a nice, soft bed to crawl into at night. I have food to eat and clean clothes to wear. My pipes didn't burst, and my ceiling didn't cave in. I have a car to take me where I need to go to acquire the things that will make this whole experience easier. And don't these things count for something?
Realizing this question has led me to ponder myself as a person and whether or not I am as good and decent as I like to think I am. This is no attempt to garner self-worth from external sources of validation. I'm just wondering when it is going to be enough. Will I ever be happy with what I have? The very fact that I have to ask this question of myself is painfully telling. I know what the answer should be. I know what I would like for my answer to be. I also know what my reality has become, and I am ashamed.
Funnily enough, I don't hold other people to the same standards. You can want what you want when you want it and get it and go on wanting as much as you like, and I think no less of people who live that way. I almost expect it of everyone else, and I wonder if they expect the same thing of me. The difference is that there comes a moment when I stop and chastise myself for thinking and behaving the way I do. Then I continue doing what I've always done. I wonder how many of us think these things and never say anything about them. We just go on living the way we want to fulfill what we believe to be everyone else's expectations.
Is this how life really is? Is this how it's going to be?
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