Sometimes I think I should be out, in public, all of the time. So people can see me; so people are forced to know that I, and people like me, exist. 

The Earth Revolves Around the Sun

One last quote from Mr. Pinker's excellent book:

"The first step toward wisdom is the realization that the laws of the universe don't care about you."

It didn't feel like home anymore

I drove by the old house yesterday, and made sure we slowed down. It's been more than two years since I moved; sometimes it feels like much longer. We used to pass by, and I felt like I should pull in the driveway. It still looked like my house; it still seemed like my house.

For perhaps the first time I felt different as we rolled down Rotax: something had changed; it didn't feel like home anymore. Maybe it's the two years, and the changes I've been through. It's hard to imagine I was walking and driving, I was so independent so recently. Maybe that's it: the house hasn't changed; I have.

The new owners have made a lot of changes: the once sadly empty backyard has been filled. There's an oversized shed at the back of the property by the orchard. An imposing children's jungle gym once took up that space. To the left, where there'd been nothing but a lonely, underused fire pit, was an ambitious fenced-in garden, and another structure behind it. It must be a chicken coop, I thought, though I didn't see any birds.

I feel happy for them, but a little sad at the same time. Like a jealous friend attending a wedding. I'm glad they're enjoying the house and the yard; I'm happy they're making improvements. They're making the most of their purchase; embracing the life that they chose. I can't help but feel a little empty.