I’ve noticed that people my age (58) have a tendency to live in the past. I’m as sentimental as they come, but I had a come-to-Jesus-moment a few years back, and I’ve been in pursuit of bigger and better ever since. Mostly, in a New and Better Me.
Looking back made me miss a lot of things.
I moved from New York when I was 15, and pined for everything about it for 40 years; holding everyone I met to a standard. And when you do that, of course you’re judged in return:
In the back woods of West Virginia, I wasn’t hippie enough. Even though I’d attended the largest rock concert ever, Watkins Glen in 1973.
In Nashville, I was a damn Yankee, and damn proud of it!
In Kansas City I was too passionate: I laughed too loud and spoke my mind. In return, I felt the people there hid behind nice.
When I moved to the East Coast six years ago, I was so disillusioned! Where I once thought EVERYTHING was better in New York, I soon realized that people across the Unites States are are all pretty much the same. What a waste of time that was to have glorified the past! I still think of all the things I missed from longing for something that didn’t exist anymore; from being stuck in the past.
For me, it’s onward and upward now. And thank the good Lord for it.
The photo: my childhood home, before the slap in the face from the Gods!