Early on in my life, I learned the importance of thought. To this day I still try to devote time to simply think and reflect. When I was younger I would lie down and let my mind weave through fleeting thoughts on school, inspirations for art, how to solve all the problems of the world, or simply wonder what the edge of the universe might look like (which I concluded long ago to be a dense, salmon-pink fog). Still, I never complain when I am left with a few moments alone because it gives me time to let my mind drift, all the while physically staring up into the oblivion. There were two places where I did most of my contemplation during my youthful Carrollton years- my bedroom and my backyard pool. Of my room, I could tell you the location of every glow-in-the-dark sticker in the shapes of stars and planets. The pool was also a great place to meditate as I could float around, letting the wind drift me from one edge of the pool to the other, all the while watching low overhead clouds and planes. In the cooler months when our pool was covered, I would simply lie on the deck and admire the real stars on the night’s chilly, velvety ceiling while wondering about the best ways to stop the destruction of the rainforest, what my future husband would look like, or why anyone listens to Michael Bolton.
So I find it rather strange that the two exact places where I spent endless hours of my youth contemplating the meaning of life has now opened up two rather largish sinkholes. My logical head realizes that there are many holes throughout Carrollton owing to the fact that the crews do not compact the ground when they are finished. Still, it is a bit unsettling (forgive the pun) that the two places I spent so much time dreaming up my future now is swallowing large portions of dirt deep into the underground. Maybe its just simply coincidence. Or, maybe there are some thoughts that need to be buried in time.
Nevertheless, watching these slight changes happening to land that once held up our homes make me ever aware of time’s finicky persistence. The past made us who we are today as a person. The present gives us new opportunities to learn a little something; it gives us opportunities to act. The future is the results of what we chose to learn; the results of those actions. Carrollton in general is giving us all an opportunity to learn about the effect of time on different people put through the same variable: an uprooting. It shows us how people still come back, driving around in wonder and in sadness. How people still cry when talking about being forced to leave. Carrollton has shown us how some people reestablish themselves, fully beyond any emotion or concern for their past home. It shows us how far the abuse of trust can go that even a decade later some people still live in fear of eminent domain. What is truly amazing to me is how so many lives have been affected by one simple action in time. So much can change in a handful of years and I eagerly await the outcome for our little corner of the universe. Hopefully, it won’t get greedily swallowed up and converted into something disgraceful. Hopefully, we will learn how something so simple as a bit of space called home can mean the whole world. Hopefully, I will learn to write down more of the things I think about instead of letting them fall into some forgotten sinkhole.