Today I'm looking outside the back door of my apartment and see this place differently than I did last night. This simple landscape reminds me of throwing the football around on the grass, of walks around the apartment complex, of staring up at the soft blue skies and letting the stress of the world fall away. My favorite thing about this area is the one, lone tree in the middle of this clearing. It seems to have come from someone else; it doesn't fit the design scheme of this complex. It looks displaced. All around here, clusters of trees grow together, or in lines of trees equally spaced. But not this one. Alone he sits ruling over his empty kingdom.Brenna and I sometimes sit out there and listen to the noises of nature and watch the grass ripple with the wind. We're thinking about leaving this place in December, to be closer to where we work. It's difficult to walk away from a place you like so much and to take a chance on a new place though. We started the conversation about moving a month ago, and haven't really discussed it since. I think, deep down, it makes both of us uncomfortable to think about walking away from this rather tranquil place... like we might end up in some places like we had been in the past - uncomfortable, fearful places. We feel safe here. And in the end, feeling tranquility and safety might outweigh the more practical reasoning of cost and location.
I hope that reflecting on place in the coming months will allow me to develop my perspective about the places I inhabit. Maybe it will help me make some life-decisions.
:)
Tyler--
ReplyDeleteI appreciated your post about not wanting to leave your place. When my husband and I decided to move out to tumbleweed country we vowed that it would be temporary. But....I've developed a great relationship with my place. I sense that we will not be here forever and it makes me sad. Though we've only lived here for a year I feel like this is where our roots are. It's hard to leave that place where you first feel grounded.
Thanks for sharing these intimate details, I look forward to reading more from you!
Tyler,
ReplyDeleteThanks for being so self-disclosing and bare-naked honest in your blog. Could that lone tree somehow be symbolic of you, in this place, meaning that you're more rooted than you thought? To stay or to go, comfort and safety vs. uncomfortableness/fear/being out of your comfort zone--both at work and at home...there's a lot tugging at you! For me, safety is not necessarily a good thing if it inhibits one's personal growth. I find myself all too complacent here, both in Nebraska and at the university. I don't sense this with you, though. I do sense you coming to terms with the challenges of relating to your students and where they come from. (I especially connected with your observations about Millard students and the privileged, cocoon-like environment in which they live--my two kids went to Central, for which I was very grateful.) I hope to learn more from your blog this semester!
You were very careful to say which tomatoes make good sauce and which tomatoes were good in other things as you were placing them in the bag. And all I could think was mmmm, I’m so stuffing my face with tomatoes when I get home.
ReplyDeleteThis reminded me of how seasons can feel more like places. Autumn has such a strong hold for a season: we, especially as teachers attuned to the dates of the dates of the school year, associate so many rituals with this change in season. It feels more like place than time, doesn't it? Your post reminds me of this--the football in the yard, the sun setting just so--we connect it with our sense of place, which is connected to the time when we experienced these places so dear to us.
I'm not sure that makes sense, but autumn makes me recall those places I had such strong connections with in the past, and yet I sometimes can only recall these places through the lens of Autumn.
Yes, I'm sure that makes little sense.