And then I started laughing. Not because it’s a ridiculous thought, but because I can’t even imagine leaving Bradenton right now.
This is an exceedingly good thing.
For the first time I can remember, at least the first time since middle school, I am content--in almost every sense of the word--with where I am. I enjoy my job and the people I work with. I love my family and friends here, the weather, the beach, the baseball games, the occasional thunderstorms, being able to help out with the youth group I was raised in. I'm learning and growing. I’m excited thinking about how my work right now could be laying the foundation for an actual career…though even in contentment such a permanent thought makes me a little nervous. Which reminds me that this contentment is probably temporary--that eventually I'll want to be somewhere else. And I'm okay with that, because it's not that I'm feeling settled here, more that I'm finding this time in my life to be fulfilling.
All this to say that I am happy. I’m busy, and mildly stressed about 70 percent of the time, but I’m okay with that. And I consider myself ridiculously fortunate that I can look back on past stages of my life, in Jacksonville and California, with intense fondness and nostalgia…yet still be thrilled with where I am.
Some culture thoughts:
Lost. In case you just moved home from the moon (which is gorgeous tonight), the series finale was Sunday. The last season (or two) has been pretty disappointing, especially because I’ve moved away from my Jacksonville viewing family and mostly watch it when I find some spare time and some Internet. But I stuck with it, and I’m glad I did. Even with its sappy pluralism, I loved the ending. It made me think fondly back to the first couple seasons, and it highlighted themes of community and sacrifice that stretch over the entire series. I hope that someday, preferably far in the future, someone close to me will decide to watch it, and I’ll join them, because I would appreciate seeing the beginning in light of the conclusion.
World Cup. I played soccer when I was younger, and I enjoy it for fun now and then, but I’ve never been able to watch it. Every four years, though, the world gets caught up in this most international of sports, and at least a few times during the Cup I sit down and pretend like I enjoy it for a few minutes. No doubt this will happen again this year, especially considering how soccer has become the trendy go-to sport for people who don’t watch sports. And maybe this year I’ll make it through an entire game; I can see myself getting caught up in the on-field energy and off-field passion, and I appreciate the dramatically un-American low scores. Maybe I’ll even watch enough to start calling it football and make comments about how we pirated its name for a sport that barely involves feet. But, most likely, fifteen minutes of the relentless back-and-forth will be enough for me and I’ll call it quits for another four years. I’d gladly trade it for the final round of the Masters or any game of baseball. I still enjoy the culture of soccer, though…which is why I’m closing with this:
Remember love.
