~If our friendship depends on things like space and time, when we've finally solved the mystery of space and time, then we've destroyed our own brotherhood! But take away space, and all we have is "here". Take away time, and all we have left is "now". And in the midst of "here and now", don't you think we might see each other once or twice?~ (Antoine St. Exupery)
The scenario: the time between you turn off the lights to go to bed, and the moment that you actually fall asleep. For me, it spans from probably 10 minutes to 45 minutes, depending on the caffeine intake, and previous events of the day. But all to often, what I turn to is a "happy place", we've all heard that phrase before, some moment of my existence whose circumstances and feelings associated with them were happier than the ones that are currently, in the here and now, on my mind.
The only real flaw of living in a set place for a long period of time, at least in my opinion, is that it is incredibly difficult, and I'm not sure entirely impossible to not fall into a pattern. Not only does that pose a risk of stunting growth, but, along with that, it makes it difficult to see where, on the life scale, you have sold yourself short. Does that even make sense? No, no it does not. In other words, making something other than the greater hope for mankind my "happy place" means that on a semi-nightly basis, I turn my energies (granted, they are few by the end of the day) toward something in my past, and in essence, saying that I wish I was back there again because today did not top it. Now, I've been teased since high school(thanks Nic!) about the anxiety that I sometimes get about the future, and the big hoohah joke (that's right, hoohah!) was that I wasn't living in the moment, and everyone else magically was.
The fact is that my life is incredibly tame compared to what this existence can throw our way, and I would imagine that there are plenty who would give anything to go back to those good old college days when food plans were available, or when their parents were alive, or when they didn't feel useless, or when they had the love of another person. "Moving on" is an interesting pair or words to toss around, because it demands that we recognize the past for what it was, act accordingly, and then completely forget about it.
Even in such an awesome place and experience such as the one I am living, and trying to live as hugely as possible; I find myself, in those situations when comfort from home is needed, I turn my thoughts toward a relationship or experience that I know either Seattle or California brings me. I, quite frankly, have no excuse, and will try from now on to be fully and completely and wholeheartedly in Israel. One of my favorite sayings of Confucious is "Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart." Don't leave it with your friends or favorite water front, or even family. Your presence in those places and hearts is there whether or not you turn to them for a quick escape from discomfort or not. But if you opt to feel the tough things with as much absorption and acceptance and grace as you feel those mountain top moments, it will give you a perspective and strength that is incredibly useful and conducive toward helping and contributing whenever the need may present itself. Every chance we take not to run away assures that those inevitably tough areas of life that demand the strength of the human spirit to rise infinitely higher will not paralyze with fear, even if the difference is miniscule, it matters.
I hope you all are well living the good life with the remaining summer that is among us. Rock on, croutons.