"What we do in life echoes in eternity."

~Gladiator

the pursuit of happiness

"Knowing and choosing what brings me joy is part of being responsible for my own happiness. The pursuit of happiness fails only when the pleasures I seek are not deep enough to sustain me. They, like idols of old, are insubstantial and man made...

What if the ability to be joyful is like a muscle? The more we use it, the stronger it grows."

~Sue Schmidt

but the honeysuckle still grows there...

This evening, after a day filled mostly with silence and a few important phone calls, most of them unsuccessful, I was walking down the street where I grew up (ignoring the weather channel website’s warning that ground-level ozone could approach or even exceed dangerous levels today because of the heat), and thinking about how very - often frustratingly - quiet and still my life is at home.

Here I am. In the past 24 months, I have spent 4 months in Australia, 5 in Pennsylvania and 8 in California (and 2 weeks in Tahiti and 1 week in New Zealand). And every time I am home in New Jersey, it is an interim. A strange, awkward interim, during which I generally feel… not exactly at home.

I wander around town for various reasons and notice the things that have changed; and the things that haven’t. I cannot imagine CVS will ever move away from its corner location in the center of town. When I was old enough to want to give Christmas presents but still a long way away from learning to drive, I did my Christmas shopping there, at CVS. And at Kmart.

But since I’ve been in college, much has changed in this town. Shaw’s Book Shop moved out of its hole-in-the-wall location to a nice store-front on the main street of town with big windows. That always makes me smile.

New World Coffee changed to a Starbucks… but that was before college, I think.

Since I’ve been in California, the Nut Shop closed, and now its place has been taken by an Optical… store (op-shop? no, that’s not it…). I loved to walk to the Nut Shop to buy ice cream or Italian ice, or chocolates. It’s sad to see them close down. Probably, they were forced to shut down because of Cold Stone, which opened around the corner some 5 or 6 years ago.

Sometime in the past couple of years, they finally finished building a small dam in Bogert’s Pond (which is actually a brook), and rebuilding the bridge across it. We used to play Pooh Sticks from the old bridge.

New people move into the area every now and then, like Jared, from Michigan, who moved here while I was in Australia, and Thostin (sp?), from Germany, who only moved here about a month ago. And of course… people move away, too. Or they move to a new home, but stay in the area. Just looking to improve life a little, I suppose.

And speaking of alleged improvements, Ketler Elementary School down the street from my house has added a new wing. But, since there is no other space, this has reduced the playground to a swingset. When I went to school there, it was an epic tire playground, complete with tire swings (I was the best at pushing people on those swings), which was replaced by a metal one some years ago due to its slow deterioration, and its reputation as the perfect location for bees and other such pesty creatures to make their homes. Now it is only a swingset.

I remember always walking to school. I remember drinking the sweet drops from the honeysuckle that grew along the fence at the back of the school, and eating the sweet clover that grew on the ground there. I used to know which kind it was that was sweet so you could eat it.

Today I walked down to Ketler and I swung on the swingset for a while, and I thought. (shocking, I know). I thought about how strange it is to be here, so quiet.

Before college I never had a friend so close I could tell her anything… or indeed preferred to tell her everything. Now I’m not sure what to do with my thoughts because those friends are all hundreds or thousands of miles from here. We have to schedule phone dates. It’s frustrating.

And I thought about what I’m doing here. What am I doing here? I want to get a job, for the 2 months and change that I’m around. Really, I need to get a job, but will I be able to? And beyond that, I suppose I’m here for people. But until I get a job, I spend most of every day in my room by myself. Strange.

And so what is my purpose? I’ve changed completely. I am now more myself than I ever have been, and I’m confident being that person. Yay! God is so good. And that’s all that matters. The whole point of life is to focus on Him. I suppose It’s just a matter of searching out what that looks like in this strange environment that is supposed to be called home. But I’ve been away from it for the majority of the past two years, which are the times that have changed me the most. Am I supposed to change this place? I’m not sure.

So while various things in this town have changed… I have changed more. This town much more reminds me of my childhood than it represents change. They may have added a new wing to the school and gotten rid of the playground, but the honeysuckle still grows there. Sometimes it makes me wish I could go back to those times. I just want to be a kid, be fully dependent on everyone else to take care of things, and I’ll just go off and play on the swings. I’ll walk to the Nut Shop and I’ll have my ice cream, and I’ll read my books, and I’ll let the world go on around me. But no. That’s not it. That’s not what I want. I want to move forward. Even if I’m here for the next 2-3 months, potentially doing very little, my life still moves forward. I enjoy my family. I live life with them. I continue to build relationships with people. Hopefully I get a job and save a bit of money, and make a few new friends and acquaintances. But more important than all of that is that I cultivate my inner life. Here I am with so much silence. I will not let silence go to waste. Whether I’m supposed to change North Jersey in the time that I’m here, I don’t really know. But nothing in the world will change if I become stagnant. I must remain a fountain no matter where I go. That way I’ll at least stir the waters when I find myself in an isolated pond.