“And there’s just two times a day like this, you find this kind of blissfulness. The sun, it sets, and rises in the morn’.”
1968 – Turnpike Troubadours
Two months ago, I started a new job, in a new town, in a new state and region of the country. I have lived in and visited all kinds of places, so I had a feeling that I would adapt to the big move just fine. What I did not see coming, is that I would love it. The only way to describe our new life is that it feels more natural. Not in a crunchy, trees, roots, and hiking kind of way, and not in a wholefoods, healthy eating kind of way either. It is a peace, restfulness, and ease of living that feels as if you were made for a place and a place was made for you. I know it is early yet, but I would like to share some of my thoughts so far.
Here in our new lifestyle that we have been blessed with, the world does not seem as manufactured or processed. When life is manufactured, you have to plan every aspect of your schedule, of your day, and sadly for many people, your families. Since moving to the Rural Midwest from the Northeast Coast, I have noticed that less processes are required. This gives me more mental (and physical) room to breathe deep and relax. Having less options in many commercial areas such as food and dining, entertainment, and home supplies, leaves more room for living, and less for planning how to live.
With less decision-fatigue, you find that instead of searching for hardware store near me while rushing from place to place, you just go to the hardware store. The other nice part is that so does everyone else. This leaves the mind free to say hi and catch up. Even in the midst of a pandemic, where isolation and unidentifiable faces are spreading across the country, I can at least know the individual behind the mask.
Small towns surrounded by large open spaces leads to more intentional and invested communities. People live, work, and recreate all in the same place. This leads to multi-dimensional interaction. It only seems natural that you would see your coworkers at church on Sunday, in the grocery store after work, or that they would wave to you when you pass each other down town. As natural as this feels to me now, I realize that before, I commuted 30 minutes to work one way, and my coworkers commuted 30 minutes from the other direction. This left us with distinct sets of individuals that rarely overlapped. These micro-communities took energy to nurture and at times relationships could feel forced, but no wonder it was so difficult to foster community! We had coworking friends, week night friends who lived in the same or at least nearby towns, weekend friends that could catch up when you could “make a day of it” and the hour drive was worth the journey.
This last note, just feels like a confirmation from God that I am where I need to be right now. Although, it may not pertain to anyone else, it was too good not to share.
My new job is on the Southeastern corner of town. My home is on the Northwestern corner of town. As the sun rises each morning, I drive towards it, and I watch it come up to start my day. As the sun sets, I settle into my new home and I rest with my family. This seems as natural as it gets. God has definitely blessed us, and his artwork is a twice-daily reminder of His Goodness.