Small-Town Musings

As the terrain changes, the scenery abandons one form for another. Mountains morph into skyscrapers while rolling hills melt into storefronts and buildings. The rolling plains evaporate into city streets and endless boulevards. I travelled east for the holiday season and was quickly reminded that, even if you take the person out of Montana, you can't Montana out of the person.

It is exciting to visit old haunts that seem new because time lives by the axiomatic principle of change. People and places evolve over the years and the same neighborhoods we grew up in, moved away from, and revisit, will have a foreign feel to them even though they remain just familiar enough to remind us we once knew them. Sometimes we pass through and recoil from the differences until we see ourselves in the reflection of a window and realized we have changed just as drastically.

Imagine the shocking cycle for a homeless expatriate who re-experiences a cherished place after an extended absence. Normalcy fades into eerie cognizance which slips into confusion wrapped in discomfort. The benchmarks and icons used as anchors to identify formerly-familiar places are altered, redesigned, or simply extinct. The sense of home a person might long for is replaced. Same place, different scenery.

It was easy for me to adapt to my old surroundings because I still had one constant that trumped all the regional variables- my family. I had the luxury of brining my Montana family with me to visit my east coast family. No matter where we went or what we did, I was able to accept the newness of my old hometown because my immediate world was stable. While I marveled at some changes and chortled at others, I was ultimately unaffected because I had an anchor allowing me to view the differences without feeling lost.

I've spoken to many homeless people who have expressed different sentiments. Because homelessness forces many people to leave their situations, it is common for some people to travel far and to be gone for extended periods of time. Weeks turn into months and then, before long, years have lapsed before a person is able to get back on their feet and return to the city they loved. But the city often changes just as much as the individual. And the reentry can be excruciating if there is no one to help restore normalcy.

This seems obvious, and I realize I'm not telling you anything you don't know. But sometimes we miss the most obvious truths around us because we are able to adapt and accept them. Change doesn't dishevel many of us as much as it inconveniences us. As the new year sets in, I hope we can see what (and who) is around us and not fall back into the default-settings we routine rely on to navigate life. Maybe we can take time to open our eyes in a different way.

Having a family and home can ground us in difficult times and allow us to move forward when our surroundings change. Please take time to remember those around us who have neither families or homes as they try to adapt to the same surroundings, albeit different scenery.