Goshen, Indiana
May 22, 2022
Hmm. There is a Goshen in Georgia -- it is pronounced "Go-shun;" I'm wondering if the one I am in now is pronounced "Gosh-son."
Thinking of that made me think that part of me is saying "Gosh, son, you have covered a lot of ground in the past week. What's your hurry?" Google Maps tells me I am 700 miles from Charlottesville; I know I have driven at least double that since last Sunday.
Indeed, what is my hurry? I have rushed and rushed and the past few days have not been a lot of fun. I've driven too many miles, seen so many things, taken an awful lot of photos (ya' think?) and spent time wondering when I will find time to update my blog. When the reality is that the only place I need to be is Pinehurst in a month for Father's Day.
Here I sit at 10 am on Sunday morning wondering whether I should spend another night in this hotel. The fact that I am wondering that is itself the answer; I should. Just to unwind and give my body a break from sitting in Hi Ho Silver. I cranked the a/c down to 60 degrees last night and slept the best I have in a week. Not that I did not wake up with my friend Sleep Inertia, but it wasn't as bad this morning as it has been.
Oops. I perhaps am oversharing about how I am feeling. Screw it. If I don't share, then I am not being human -- something I tried not being for my first 50+ years.
Cathartic. I guess I came across this song for a reason. I can try and forget the past, but the past is part of me.
Final thought. Many of the towns I have passed through the past week have seen better days. In many cases though there are buildings and homes that reveal what a prosperous past the town had. To me, the outsider, the visitor, it is sad to see how time has not been kind to the town. Yet I realize it is home to many and they probably don't see the decay and neglect that I see. It is their home where they live and create own memories. One of the answers I have found is to pause and reflect; to be curious and not be ethnocentric.
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