at the water's edge

In the past ten days, I've driven from my home in Missoula, Montana, through the panhandle of Idaho, across the expanse of Washington, into the city of Seattle, and out to Discovery Bay on the Olympic Peninsula. I've experienced places that really rocked my senses and found several of them difficult to leave. As I drove back into the evergreen mountains of Western Montana and to the crisp, clear, green valley of Missoula last night (Missoula had a lot of rain while I was away), I was conflicted.

Here I live in a place that I chose more deliberately than any other place I've ever lived so far. Missoula also ranks as the best in terms of beauty, comfort, and quietude. I feel safe and protected here. I feel at peace. But I don't have peace of mind. In every place I've ever lived, I begin thinking of the next "place" soon after arrival. I write lists of desirable features for each next place, and the lists persistently change. I am fickle, I know that.

As I drove back into Missoula last night, I made a mental spreadsheet of the pros and cons of Missoula versus the places where I had just been. Should I be here or should I be there? Yet as I unloaded my car and put things away, as I walked around the yard admiring plant growth, as I called it a night with a new book of poetry, I asked myself about this restlessness.

Not all of the wonderful places I'd seen would meet all of my needs on a daily basis. Sure, standing in a scrubby plain with the wind blowing my thoughts to the clouds is conducive to sorting things out in my head. Yes, walking along a narrow pier at sunset, as waves roll loudly under it to crash against the cement pilings gives me the exhilarating energy of life. I think I'm greedy to want all of these experiences all of the time.

So I'm beginning to think that place is what we create in our spirit and mind. If we can be any place and sift through it to find the peace or excitement that that place has to offer; if we can seize some of that to keep in our memory, to draw upon from time to time as we wander or move away from that place; if we can find our comfort in any place and tend to our basic needs in any place; then we could live in only one place by tempering our perspective and attitude as we live through each day. Nevertheless, I've been unable to tame my mind to do such a thing.

I'll still make my lists, I'll still look for the next, and I'll wonder why my spirit has control over my mind and why my senses have control over my spirit and why a place affects those senses so dramatically, and I'll wonder if this is enrichment or if this is anxiety.