A New Leaf

Autumn comes a bit later here in Arizona, my new home. But, though it was 90-some degrees again in the Phoenix area today, the Fall is indeed sneaking into the Valley of the Sun as we speak. In fact, the same fall colors you can see out your window in Connecticut, or Vermont, or Wisconsin, have been on display in the northern parts of the state, including the Grand Canyon area, for weeks. So…I’m not feeling as homesick as I expected.

I mean, if I stand at the end of my driveway, I can see an actual mountain; so I’m not exactly starving for gorgeous natural visuals. But I’m looking forward to seeing some gold and scarlet gracing the trees in my neighborhood. But, not the palm trees, I’m guessing.

Seasonal changes are obvious times to reflect on the changes and chances of our lives. especially this year, since I went through more changes than a chameleon hiding out on a Jackson Pollock painting.

Quit a  job, sold a house, went through the intense last weeks of my mom’s life with her, drove all of our possessions cross-country, relocated my family to the middle of a desert. And that was just July. Why did I do it? What was I thinking? Questions like that seem to be reasonably on everyone’s minds. And my answer is, unreasonably,’ I don’t really know.’ Yes, we wanted to get out of the super-high-pressure of the east coast economy. Yes, we’d had more than our fill of humidity and winter. And, yes, it seemed that I came to the point to turn the page and find out the rest of the story. But none of those was a deciding factor.

Regardless of our illusions and desires, we have little real control of our lives. That’s a simple fact. We all get tossed on ever-roiling seas, swept along by the currents of history, driven by random and capricious tides.  Sure we do stuff, build and buy stuff, love, marry, raise children and make our marks, but the world rolls on with or without our cooperation. The most logical forward motion in life seems to be to go with the flow, like corks in the stream. 

Maybe going against the stream occasionally is a way of taking back some small measure of control. Or maybe I’m just going through a mid-life crisis and making crazy choices. Po-tay-toe, po-tah-toe.

But here I am, in a red state, in the west, with 100+ degree summers, scorpions, rattle-snakes and republicans. And, terrific schools, an amazing highway system, great shopping, libraries and public services. And mountain sunset vistas that’ll make your eyes pop.

I’m still not sure how I got here, and I’m still not sure what I’m gonna do with my new life…but I’m working on it.

When I put it all together, you’ll be the first to know.

About these ads
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to A New Leaf

  1. Dale Coe says:

    Sometimes, Brian, when we think we’re swimming against the tide, we’re actually going WITH the flow. We just don’t know it. It sounds to me that at this point in your life, you were needing a change. Of scenery and of, perhaps, priorities. I’m sure you wont waste time and effort wondering WHY, just look around and ask what can I do with this?
    I envy you your new scenery, that’s for sure. That pic is beautiful!

  2. Kim says:

    Brian, as you say, control is an illusion. Only thru the lens of time will you be able to look back on your recent ‘moves’ and realize: hey, ‘that’ would have never happened if I hadn’t done ‘this.’ So keep doing what you are doing: keep yourself open to those surprises and unexpected moments – and what is meant to happen will happen. Meanwhile enjoy the vistas. (BTW, this season’s color in CT anyway, is not that brilliant – the drought kinda sapped much of the color.)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s