What a Place This Could Be

This place of mine has become so familiar, so uninteresting, so unsurprising. Perhaps it is not where I am, but what I do that has grown mundane. This place of mine? No, this life of mine. A visual display of my daily route would resemble an elementary school exercise of tracing the letter “L” repeatedly. I have inside jokes with the trees along my commute. Every night I wipe pieces of my routine from my shoes on the doormat outside my house. I long for someplace new.

What a place this could be, though, if I were to look somewhere new, turn a different way. The world opens a block away. I have turned right before, today I will go left. New discoveries swarm my senses. It’s the same city, but different. Adventure draws me forward, each step a landmark. Soon I go from foot-dragging local to springy tourist.

At the next intersection there is a Vietnamese restaurant, a half-priced book store, and a bar with a lively patio crowd. It glows in the distance like an oasis of culture. Just beyond that is a vibrant park with sand volleyball and basketball courts. I happen to have both of those types of balls deflating in my storage closet. Alas, it is getting late and I am alone. I vow to return with friends, and a plan. I only wish I had looked around sooner. I can’t wait to stay right where I am.