Small Town


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Sometimes I wonder how pathetic I am.

Today there was a post on my Instagram account (if anyone wants it, please just let me know) from one of my friends who is hiking the Appalachian Trail. Very cool. The AT goes very near where I grew up in Connecticut. A lovely little town in the NW region…a very little town.

It got me reminiscing. I honestly have way too much time on my hands these days, because when I get in one of these moods, I can really get on the track of things. First I went on Google. That came up with some pretty typical stuff: the town page and all. I wasn’t too surprised to find that one of my Ex’s was listed as a prominent figure on the list of ‘important’ figures in the town. The town sexton actually. I had to look that one up: a sexton. In this case, they may be referring to taking care of the town?

I had contacted him a number of years ago as part of a healing process. We were married very many years ago (and divorced). He was very glad to hear from me (thank goodness), which isn’t totally surprising as he was really a very nice man. He still lives in this beautiful town in the family home. Cool.

After the Google search, I decided to dive further and went to YouTube. This was where I hit gold. There was a video of the town, apparently one of many (all the others to be found in the town library), that actually was a bit of a historical and present day visit to it. The best part was that it had actual footage of my Ex!! There he was making maple syrup, just like his Dad did many, many years ago.

It kind of hit me (this is where it gets pathetic I suppose), how life goes. I remember going out on freezing nights and checking the temperature of the sap to make sure it didn’t burn. And I think to now: what an amazing gift to still be participating. It’s just the kind of life I envision–we had envisioned long ago. What happened?

I look back on so much of my life and wonder about it. How a part of me must have known that some of the people I picked were right, but then I couldn’t see far enough to stick with it. What was it in me that didn’t have the ability to stay?

And now I’m simply so jumbled about it all to even want to step into it all again. It all felt so much simpler when I was young. Looking at someone and thinking you could be with them. But when I was actually there–I always seemed to see something else.

Now I don’t know what I see these days.

It’s so easy to get lost in these fields of that little town; in the hope and the green and sounds of the stream. Is it all just something from long ago? Or will I someday walk again in a place and feel something is right?

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Is Anybody Out There?


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While we may be introverts, most of us eventually need human contact. Sometimes we don’t even realize we miss it until we have it again.

I’ve had many months now to be by myself and it has been very restorative. I needed it really to heal and figure out some deep emotional things. It’s easy to get caught in a trap of never wanting to be around too many people.

But I have noticed symptoms not unlike depression also during these months. And when I compare myself on a day when I come back from helping at the soup kitchen, I noticed a marked change in how I felt.

I’m still tired, but it’s from getting up early and working, not from sadness. And there’s an energized feeling from just being around other humans, even when the interactions aren’t always wonderful.

It just reminded me what social creatures we ultimately are and being isolated day after day can play poorly on our psyche. We simply need a little juice from our fellow beings now and again.

That’s not to say I prefer constant bombardment, but I can plainly see that utter solitude can do a number too, unless maybe you were somewhere tremendously beautiful.

I’m glad I will be picking up more volunteer hours so I can keep getting my fix of human contact. Hopefully it will keep me a part of this crazy species a bit longer.