Reminiscing

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Ohio. I spent the majority of my formative years in a very small town there when I was growing up, but I never fit in, didn’t appreciate knowing every single person, and, compared to California, where most of my family is, I felt like the arts and culture were missing. So, when my parents and I moved back to California, I was ecstatic. I think California is a lovely place to spend your late teens/twenties, potentially even early thirties (and beyond that, obviously, depending on what you value in life). But for me, ever since the pandemic, I’ve had this slowly growing nagging feeling—my nervous system is completely overstimulated by the lifestyle here. There’s traffic all the time. Seasons aren’t super distinct, so the lack of weather transitions becomes noticeable and can feel disorienting (especially if you’ve spent substantial time in places where there are distinct weather transitions between seasons). There isn’t enough funding going towards public schools, free/low-cost activities at community centers, and libraries (I will give Ohio credit where it’s due—they use tax money to fund these resources and there are better opportunities for education, community building, and recreation). People can often be cold and there’s a sense of keeping to oneself. I’ve never once met one of my neighbors in the time I’ve lived here. There are a few who would occasionally say hi or bye, but that’s it, I’ve never known their names or anything about them. Community really has to be forged, and it’s typically through the workplace or a spiritual/religious space. People will look at you weirdly if you try to make small talk with them in the grocery line. California isn’t entirely a bad place, to be clear. I do love the beaches here, and I like that I’ve been able to explore different interests and grow authentically into myself without fear of judgment or unwarranted criticism. But, that aside, I find myself thinking about the things I do miss about Ohio: I miss all four seasons. I think I would actually start crying if I could drive through a wooded area during fall and see all of the leaves changing or if I could experience a snowfall around the holidays, I’m not exaggerating. I miss having a huge, well-funded, and safe public library system. I miss not having to sit in traffic for an hour just to go ten miles. I miss the regulation that comes with being somewhere with seasonal transitions, reasonable traffic (and lack thereof), and low-cost or no-cost activities that add meaning and depth to life. And I also really miss making small talk with strangers and the ease of making friends that comes along with that. So, I find myself thinking a lot about the parks I would go to growing up during springtime: all the beautiful flowers; the green grass; the birds, the butterflies, the bees all happily flittering around; the smell of everything (I guess clean and fresh is the only way I can explain it? Lower air pollution, and all that). I think about all the autumn leaves. I think about decorating the Christmas tree while snow is falling outside and how everything felt perfectly cozy and homey. 

While I can’t see myself ever wanting to live in a small town again (as that’s definitely not for me either), I do find myself thinking about places with similar rhythms of life for the future. Maybe somewhere like Columbus, or towns in New Jersey that are commutable to NYC. Maybe even places in Pennsylvania. I don’t know. For right now, I am focusing on the present moment, looking forward to continuing my education, and taking things one day at a time. But in the future, I’d really love to have a calmer, more regulated life. One that doesn’t constantly feel like my nervous system is stuck in fight or flight mode. One where I can stop and smell the flowers, live without constantly feeling like I’m rushing, and one that is quieter and calmer. In the meantime, I’m exploring ways to create this sense of peace: avoiding driving as much as possible, spending time with loved ones, treating each holiday like a special moment and a signifier of turning seasons. I guess my point in writing all of this is that the grass isn’t always greener. No place is perfect. But as I get older, I’m starting to value things differently. I’m placing more importance on calm and peace, as opposed to where the best entertainment is or where I think the best work opportunities are. I am learning that it’s okay to change and grow and want different things. Just because something was once your dream or somewhere was once your favorite place (or least favorite), it doesn’t have to remain so forever.