I once live near Portland Oregon. When I think back, I cannot remember any significant negatives about that time in my life. I close my eyes and only see good things. Yet, for reasons I cannot explain, I have only returned to the area three times in thirty years.
There is a strange feeling that comes when a place is familiar while still being new. I have no specific memories of the area that I am visiting. I am reasonably sure I did not spend any time here. While I was familiar with the name and where it was located, I did not have any reasons to come to this area. Yet, this is something that makes it seem like I was here yesterday.
Others I know left and came back years ago. As they have buried themselves in doing the stuff of living, I have watched their enthusiasm for life grow in different ways. As I reflect on what is the driver behind the changes in their lives, there is a common thread that transcends location, time, and place.
Each is living out their passion. Each is doing the stuff of what they believe in.
History is littered with examples of those that followed their dreams and others that abandoned theirs. When “Paul left, taking the disciples with him, and set up shop in the school of Tyrannus, holding class there daily. He did this for two years, giving everyone in the province of Asia, Jews as well as Greeks, ample opportunity to hear the Message of the Master.” (Acts 19.10) He was following his dreams, doing the stuff.
I find myself on familiar roads, remembering others who were with me in the past. I wonder if they still have their dreams. In my reconnections, there are highs and lows. Some have found a way of living that brings out the best in themselves. Others are searching.
The Pacific Northwest is wonderful in the sun. There are individuals who have discovered a great way to live. I wonder if their secrets will work in California.
