Today marks two years since I officially became a full time resident of the City of Birmingham as I still operated on eastern time and almost tried to show up for work an hour early (granted my first thing was a 7:30 a.m. Design Review Committee meeting).
In two years I’ve gotten a little slower, a little wider, hopefully a little wiser and more seasoned. There are three strands of gray hair that have decided to camp out on the right side of my face, reminding me that the best is yet to come. I’ve seen progress, steps taken forward and backwards, friends come and go, reality set in and dreams both die and rise from the ashes to take flight over the city, pulling our heartstrings with them. The words that bloggers write provide a window into the author’s soul, though I’m not quite sure what these words mean to those that read them.
I’m now volunteering for the event that made it very difficult to move into the loft, adding to a legacy I left behind in Savannah of not quite knowing how to say the word “no.” I don’t because I want to do it all. I want to do whatever is necessary for this city to achieve its hopes and dreams and for me and Bets to achieve ours.
I watch work out the window every morning on buildings and dreams. I watch as class and race still permeates everything that we do, whether we like it or not. I see people walk into my office sill hopeful in the American Dream coming true for them, whether because of or in spite of what I do. For every person I see with bars on their doors, I see others that remind me that I can just call up a few people and have them over for drinks on a whim. I wonder exactly what does it mean when you still get up in the morning and love what you do, even though you wonder if there is another challenge out there that may finally get the engine going faster and work you more than you’ve ever been worked before.
I have an orange ragdoll tabby that has enjoyed what I promised him when I took him in years ago; the chance to enjoy views from a loft during the day and to be comfortable. He could have run away a few times but I think he’s happy he’s hung around. I have a girlfriend who has sacrificed her career so I could start mine, despite requests from me not to do so for my sake. I’m glad to have her in Birmingham.
I have neighborhoods of opportunity, villages as someone once called them, in and out of the city that scream for the stars on the state license plate to fall on them and lift them up into the national spotlight.
I know people that love to dream as much as I do and who do all they can to make them come true. It lets me know that hope is still eternal and useful.
And there are people that read the words that appear in this corner of the blogosphere whenever I post them, some who comment and continue to push to see what else they can learn, others sitting quietly by with their thoughts, hopes and criticisms in their hearts.
These words that bloggers write provide a window into the author’s soul, though I’m not quite sure what these words mean to those that read them. Nor do I know what magic the central city of the state holds for me next. I sometimes wonder if the beach and impromptu cookouts would be better.
I guess we’ll see.
Enjoy the weekend.