A Common Good

A few years back my heart matured enough to develop a strong love for my community. Since we have never stayed in one place more than a year or two, it had been difficult to grasp this concept. However, after living in our home for 8 years, it is safe to say we are entrenched. We have made lifelong friends, our children are doing well in school, we love our neighbors, and our extended family lies just around the corner. Now that we have established our home, our most basic instinct is to protect it from any threat. Fires, burglars, storms, even the lowly grubs are some of the things we take extra precautions against each year. Sometimes we even find that we have to protect ourselves from our own best interests.

A few years back, industrial development came knocking to our little town. It came knocking with a big checkbook and promises to be a good neighbor. It also came knocking with hundreds of tractor trailers a day and warehouses that would slice 85-120 feet feet into our skyline. With the economy at a downturn, this tempting offer was hard to resist; and our local government invited this industrial vampire across the threshold, into our homes. Now anyone who has seen a good vampire movie knows never to permit entry; for once they enter, they will eventually take over. But I, and many of my neighbors, felt differently. We saw our blossoming, family-oriented community no place for an industrial nightmare; and we decided to dig our heels in for a fight. It took over a year of meetings, lawyers, flyers, door knockings and petition signing; but we finally won back the security of our homes!

One particular day, in the heat of battle, I was feeling especially frustrated. Our cause had taken some hard hits. We were running low on funds, and I had been receiving a lot of discouraging remarks from people that our goal was unreachable and we should just give up. I felt abandoned by our elected officials and the lack of interest they showed in hearing our arguments. I felt the need for some fresh air and to clear my head a bit, so I rode over to take a look at the land.

Although I have driven past it a million times over the years, this expansive plot of land had become more beautiful to me as the months passed. I grew up minutes from this location and remember a time when it was filled with cows and corn. The rich, soil always seemed to be bustling with farming activity back then, and it was a true reflection of what it was like to live in "the country". Over the years, developers came in and started snatching up surrounding plots of land for residential development. With each project came a community "sigh" over losing a piece of what our area used to mean. I gazed out over the barren field awaiting it's fate. Historic homes still dotted it's border, and although it's original splendor had faded, this empty expanse was still a thing of beauty. I came across several hearts surrounding the land that day. In fact, if you search the location on Google Earth, there is an actual bald patch in the center that is in the shape of a heart!

These hearts felt like a confirmation to me. Not as a sign we would eventually win our fight, but the realization of the love we collectively shared for our community. We became united, despite our diverse backgrounds, in order to protect our homes. We wanted to honor the promise our township made; that our community would not expand but maintain our growth in order to preserve our historic and cultural value. Through this goal, we crossed the normal social boundaries that divide us, and we came together as a family. It was a wonderfully frustrating yet satisfying expression of the power that people can possess when they are driven by a common good. Plus, it made me realize how much I love and appreciate my community and the people I share it with each day.

Now, when I drive through our township, I look at each doorstep differently. Former strangers have become friends, and our community feels more like a home that we all share. Beyond each fence lies a friendly face and the knowledge that when it comes to the most important things, we really have a lot in common.

Resolutions

With the turning of each New Year comes the dreaded New Years Resolution. This is a time when we come to terms with the skeletons in our closet and promise to forge onward into the next year with a clean slate. Many of us recommit ourselves to goals, try to kick old habits and consciously admit to ourselves we can (and will) do better.

For me, this usually involves a laundry list of household projects, promises to be more organized and a rededication to my health and spirit. The easiest of these tasks for me to focus on is my health. After all, I have spent decades studying fads, diets, lifestyle choices, raw foods, whole foods, omega 3-6-9 fatty acids, oils, vitamins, herbs, aerobic exercise, weight lifting, yoga, meditation etc. I am completely aware of exactly what I need to do to be happy and healthy, yet each year I have fallen back into old habits and spend the rest of the year applying sporadic commitment.

3 years ago, after a gluttonous ringing in of 2009, I decided to kick off the New Year with some healthy choices. Like an assassin, I examined my pantry, eradicating all the evils that tempted me during the year. White sugar, white flour, white pasta, white potatoes, white rice... all offending poisons that lurked on my shelf waiting to be purged. I vowed never to be swayed to the white side again! I barreled onward to the local store, filling my coffers with the whole grain browns... brown rice, brown flours, brown pastas. Into my cart I threw flax seed oil, avocados, seeds and promised to overflow my crispers with fresh fruits and veggies. Also on my shopping list were nuts of the purest form. These nuts were not roasted or salted; but a nut in its shell (finally I would get to use my nutcracker)! Returning home, I stocked my shelves with whole foods and grains. I looked at my bounty and felt anxious to start my new "lifestyle choice". Time for a celebratory snack! Reaching for the bag of nuts, I scrambled through a tangle of kitchen utensils for my nutcracker. I dove right in for my first crack which wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. The taste of the fresh walnut was buttery and delicious as I savored each nugget I dug out from the hard casing. As time passed, my knuckles grew sore and the work was was not as fun as I imagined. Although I tried to convince myself that this would be my new daily ritual, I felt myself acknowledging that maybe nut cracking (for me) wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

As I struggled through my bag 'o nuts, I cracked one open to find this heart. How funny that this tough nut would crack into a loving shape. Perhaps this was a sign that making healthy choices was a way of loving myself? After delving further into this idea, I came to terms with the fact that it wasn't about my decision but my dedication. Each year, despite the fact I fell off the brown wagon, I found it in myself to get back on. Each year, I persevered towards my goals with high intentions that lead towards the realistic acceptance: I am only human. I may not tackle each goal with the laser focus that I imagined, but the fact I keep trying means that I can consider my goal closer and my life better from the effort. As I set my resolutions for this year, I accept the real victory rests in my determination. Winston Churchill once said, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” Time to crack some nuts...