The Open Road.

Whenever I go back to the hometown it seems very surreal. I suppose in my egocentrism I except everything to be the same, almost as if time doesn't pass there when I'm up here. But when I see new establishments, and old ones gone, they conflict with my stored image of the area. While I was there, I saw changes in gradual increments, but now when I go back, some things are very different while some things are still very similar to my memories. This causes slight discomfort, but also serves to remind me that 1) sometimes things weren't like I remembered them originally, and 2) the only constant in life is change.

Usually, when I notice these changes in my hometown, I go through a thinking pattern of "How have I changed in the time since I've last been here?" "What have I really accomplished?" "What would I like to accomplish?" and "What really matters in life?". Sometimes I realize I've become really introspective just because that convenience store on the corner isn't called "Cumberland Farms" anymore, and I think "Should I get bogged down in all of these soul-searching questions or just make the best of what I have right now?". So then, that question leads me back to the sort of emotional/intellectual/philosophical equilibrium that I had before I got back into town and, when I leave and come back again, the cycle continues.

I always enjoy the drive too; I get to sit still in one place while rapidly heading toward another place for hours on end and it affords me some time to just think.