2 years

Its been just over 2 years since Jackie and I bought the first house. We closed on April 12, 2007, were technically supposed to get possession on April 16, 2007, but I think we got one day early. So, 2 years and either 1 day or 2 days that I have lived here. Its significant to me because it represents the longest I have lived in one place since I left for college (and by one place, I mean not having to move, and since I had to move so many times during college, it didn't count as one place).

Every year I lived in a different room on campus at SJC. Every year also included the move back and forth from my parents to college (so, in some ways, it wasn't really living out on my own yet). Than I lived two years in Valpo for the first two years of law school. Than Jackie and I got married and we lived in South Bend for a year, than in Elkhart for a year, than finally moved to Middlebury. And now its been over 2 years, surpassing my years in Valpo for my longest stay.

I pay attention to such silly things because after all that moving during college and law school and our first years of marriage, I almost felt nomadic. There were boxes that never got unpacked. You never learned much about the placing you were living, never ventured out into all the true local places of interest because you figured you'd be leaving soon and it would be wasted energy. In general, you always feel temporary, never wanting to get too comfortable because you knew the next move wasn't far away. Succinctly, you end up feeling like you don't belong anywhere.

Because you don't stay in the area very long, you fail to make the connections. You view yourself as a Michigan person living in Indiana, a city person living in a small town, a MSU/Detroit sports fan living in Chicago /Indiana sports team fans. You notice all the divisions. It kind of results in a self imposed isolation.

All this, of course, has slowly started to change. When we moved in two years ago we knew we were here for the long haul...this would be the community we would be in for many years to come. Thus, you start working towards making inroads in the community, becoming involved in a local church, attending local group meetings, looking for opportunities to be more involved, to meet more people, to know more people, to establish yourself. When I think of attempting to do all this in a small town, where many representations would imply that they reject people coming from the outside, people who haven't lived in the town for many, many year, I come to a somewhat paradoxical conclusion.

I think it is both easier and harder to establish one self and find that sense of belonging in a new small town. Its easier simply due to numbers, there are less people to know, and consequently, any involvement has a chance to have a greater impact (its like the college analogy, it is easier to make an impact on a community at a small college than a large university). But its harder because often the fact that you haven't lived there our entire life, or for a long time, makes you very unique in the community. I don't think anyone is intentionally holding a grudge, but, there are few people who have no connections to the area, which makes having no connections uncommon. Comparably, in a large city, because of the sheer number of people, its not uncommon to have people who have no connections to the city, and thus, its not a hurdle, so to speak, that has to be overcome, or dealt with in some fashion.

Amid all this retrospection I lose the fact that I have grown to love living in a small town, something I would not think possible 10 or even 5 years ago. There are times when I still miss being able to see shows, sports, art or museum exhibits without planning an entire weekend allowance. But there is something special about seeing kids riding bikes through the neighborhood, families out walking and having impromptu conversations with neighbors, to have drive homes from work with no traffic, and no noise, to be able to go out on the back patio at night, and see as many constellations as I want, to wake up early in the morning and hear nothing but the clacking of horse drawn buggy on the road. Its so quiet as compared to living in a city...and for me, personally, its charming in that way. It draws me, it attracts me for the quiet.

So while I will still look forward to trips to Indianapolis, Chicago, or Detroit for various things, the quiet of the small town will draw me back, an ever present reminder of why I was and am able to leave behind that high school and college wish to live in a city. And now, after 2 years of living in this particular small town, the place continues to evolve into that elusive concept of "home." And more important, "my home, my place." There will always be ways to continue to improve that sense, to avoid temptation to withdraw, and stay involved, press participation, continue to meet and know people.

All this makes me think about the concept of guidance...I wanted to live in a big city, that is what I wanted. But when I wanted it, I didn't truly know myself. I would get lost in a big city, I would withdraw, being overwhelmed. I wouldn't feel connected to anything, I would miss quiet. If I had done what I wanted and what I thought, at the time, was best (there is always that stage where we think what we want is what is best), it would not have worked well. Instead, my life took another direction due to my relationship with Jackie, and I am now where I never thought I would be, in the type of place I never thought I could stand, and absolutely love it. Its a nice reminder, particularly to my hyper planner self, that sometimes the best things aren't planned, they just happen, albeit in a manner that "feels" guided.