This morning, while I was having my coffee, I walked over to the window to stand in the sun. This particular spot overlooks a cemetery, with headstones from the 1700's. Some people might be creeped out to live across from a cemetery, but from the window in the living room, there is a historic beauty to it.
In mid morning, the sun hits the headstones, casting shadows and illuminating the three hundred year old inscriptions. The trees near the plot are beginning to bloom, suspending pale bursts of yellow, pink, and white, over the vibrant green grass and marble slabs. I took a snapshot in my mind, and closed my eyes to feel the sun on my face, and hold the steaming cup of coffee in my hands. For just a few seconds, I was able to be completely in the moment, enjoying my surroundings.
Then a fire engine drove by, sirens wailing, and police in tow. I nearly dropped the coffee on the white rug, due to my hypersensitive startle reflex. I glanced back out the window, to notice two young teenagers sitting on the stone wall that surrounds the cemetery, cars honking at the stoplight on the corner, and a group of businessmen walking out of the deli across the street. In a matter of seconds, I was jolted back to the reality of living in a small city. Having spent ten years residing in small New England towns, there is still a part of me that hasn't adjusted to the hustle and bustle here. I think that's why I love the view of the cemetery so much. It reminds me of the stillness of living in a small town. The peace I experienced, driving down Main Street before shops were open, and the town was still asleep. The quiet as I passed pastures of sleeping cows.
It is a similar familiarity, amidst a different scene. I've adapted to my new surroundings, by finding the things that grant me serenity, so that I can enjoy the life I have in this moment. I'm not a huge fan of the loudness at which this city operates, but I also wasn't a huge fan of the smell of manure, either. I could choose to focus on all the things I hate about where I live, or I can look for the things I love, and how I can expand upon them. Ultimately, I just want to be happy, no matter where I am. Perhaps in three hundred some odd years, someone will be looking at my headstone in the mid morning sun, and see the inscription "Loved her life, and learned from it." For now, I'm going to do just that.