Back when I was a teenager attending private school in Albany, I used to take a school bus along part of what starts out as State Street in Schenectady and becomes Central Avenue in Albany. Even 55 years ago, this was for the most part a woebegone stretch of retail establishments, and my young, hypersensitive self found it a profoundly ugly urban/suburban stretch of road. Who knows, perhaps that is part of why I became fixated on getting to the English countryside.
Yesterday, I took a city bus along the same route, and honestly, the impression that it leaves hasn't changed a bit in over half a century. Actually, it is shocking that some buildings are still there, if somewhat changed for the worse, including 1930's-era Roosevelt School that I attended from first through third grade. Putting aside how worn out/worn down a lot of the structures are, and how not visually beautiful, my obsession yesterday was imagining all the plastic being sold along the route (eventually to be discarded)...in big box stores, small convenience stores and gas stations, pharmacies, fast food restaurants, etc. OMG.
After last week's experience of recognizing some snobbishness on my part -- something that is still causing ripple effects -- I realize that I have changed a bit in six or seven days. Now, I feel a new measure of acceptance. I don't think I actively felt superior to my fellow bus riders or the landscape I was riding through. It was more a case of, I am where I am. All of it "is what it is". There were some hard moments (fights, etc.) but I did not find myself wishing I were elsewhere. I was a little bit better at centering myself and saying, "I am here. There is a reason I am here. Perhaps on some level I am a force for good."
Meanwhile, the kind of cool English summer I remember from writing up my master's thesis in July/August of 1981 is a thing of the past, and earth Herself is rumbling and feverish. Those of us in climes that are currently more temperate and bearable walk the tightrope between gratitude that we are "somewhere else" -- and the sure knowledge that at any moment, we could rumble or burn too. There's a certain calm that comes from simply letting Mother Earth do what she needs to do to regain balance.
