“To regret deeply is to live afresh.” – Henry David Thoreau
I don’t usually spend much time on regret. Things are what they are and I try to stay focused on the bright side. Sometimes, though, regret slaps me in the face and I go from a state of contented routine to a place of wallowing in what feels like a tar pit of lost opportunities. This happened to me recently as the result of trips to Colorado and California.
Colorado is where I grew up and where my kids spent their early years. My family still lives there and every time I visit I think, “Why in the world did I ever leave here?” The mountains are so beautiful and the air is so crisp, dry and clear. The climate’s a relatively gentle one, especially for someone who melts like the Wicked Witch of the West in Southern heat and humidity.
I fit in better in the West, too. People are “odder” there – more plain spoken, easier to understand, more prone to nonconformity in habits and in dress. I’ve never really taken to the South and 23 years into the experiment, it’s probably safe to say I never will. This is not to criticize Southern people or things; it’s just to explain why I feel more at ease and at home in the West.
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