Keep Moving
April 17 / Keep Moving (a chapter from my book, ‘Looking at Forty’)
I drove through my hometown today. For all of us who have left and come back, I’m sure we all have some relationship with the places we grew up. Some of those are good, some bad, and some ugly. My relationship with my hometown—Eau Gallie, Florida (somewhat affectionately known as “EG”)—has a bit of all three. I will give you a quick rundown on my hometown, but to sum it up: it is perpetually stuck somewhere in the early 90s. If you are around my age, you remember the vibe of the early 90s pretty well. Death Row Records was the biggest thing on the planet, and it seems as if EG still believes that.
Before I dive in, I will preface this chapter with the fact that I have a lot of love for where I come from. In many ways, it made me who I am today—but I have come to think that its lack of evolution is a bad thing. In EG, it seems most residents are content to squeak by and not progress in life. The same goes for the town itself. It is not actually an official town any longer, just a relic of a town that was eaten up by a larger municipality. Perhaps there is some complex meaning there that I am just now considering. EG has an edge to it, a mix of grit and attitude. This can be good, and this can be bad.
I have always expected this little corner of the world to change, if even ever so slightly. The town has let me down in that regard, as it refuses to budge. Still, this is the kind of place that, for whatever reason, I find myself missing sometimes. That is not to say I would move back to EG, but I still like to see what is going on (which can usually be done on a drive through town). Growing up I had many, many good times in this place. I suppose we could all say that about any hometown, or at least most of us could. There were bad times, too, but the same goes for those. My childhood ranged anywhere between not great to wonderful, depending on what stage I care to look at. But this chapter is not about me—it is about my hometown, a place where it seems like a disproportionate number of people never leave. Those who do not leave, whether by choice or by circumstance, seem to struggle a bit. It is likely the surroundings, as it is hard to change when those surroundings never do. Ambition can be hard to come by in that neck of the woods. As a result, drugs and alcohol tend to offer some form of escape from the everyday.
I do not want to use the word “trap” to describe the place, but it’s the word that comes to mind. When I was younger I succumbed to some of the “trappings” of this place. I have heard the word “towny” be used in other areas to describe a person who never gets out. And I will admit that I was on the border, the cusp, of becoming exactly that. On my drive through town, I could picture myself still there if only I had made a few more ill-advised decisions. There are many wrong paths to pursue in Eau Gallie, but luckily I never made it too far down any of them. I refused to follow some of my friends who explored those paths with a little too much zeal. Unfortunately, most of those paths were dead ends—or worse. I was proud of this little section of the world when I was younger, proud to claim it as where I came from. But I knew, deep down, it was not the long-term lifestyle for me.
At 39, it is easy for me to see that leaving that place was the best, and most important, decision that I ever made. It was not an easy decision to leave it behind, but the best decisions rarely are. When I stop and think about what my life would be like if I hadn’t made that leap, I can’t help but cringe. First, and most importantly, I would not have met my wife. I would likely be in a dead-end job and not pursuing my passions as I am today. I would not have had the opportunity to serve my country—something I am extremely proud of. The list of missed experiences and relationships would run long and deep while the list of accomplishments would likely be the opposite. That is not to say that many people who stick around have not lived wonderful and fulfilling lives there, but I know that mine would not have turned out as well as it has since the departure. I do not have a clear idea of exactly what I would be up to, but I know I would not have had the experiences that my current path has afforded me. I am proud of where I am and the things I have done and seen over the years. I am not sure I would feel the same way if I remained content with the status quo of that town. But who knows. There is something about that place that has the ability to hold people close. I am glad that I was able to break the grips and move on. I look back on that choice with zero regrets. I look back with happiness and pride.
Today’s drive made me consider the importance of constant progression. There are several points in life, sometimes hidden, that can get you stuck in a rut. Perhaps you get content in a job you do not like, yet it pays the bills. Maybe that group of friends or that relationship seems OK and you are unwilling to explore other, better options. Maybe you took a week off from your exercise routine, and you decide it is OK to take off another. While in that rut, a difficult decision needs to be made to accomplish said progression. Sometimes we must move along. That could be from a physical location, a mindset, or even a relationship. I suppose I moved along from all three of those with my departure from EG. We need to, or should, see what is out there beyond our everyday, self-imposed boundaries. We will never discover life’s possibilities if we do not seek them out. I do not know which would be worse—striving for something more in life and failing to achieve it, or never striving at all. Actually, I do know, and so do you. As my car pulled away from EG today, I once again realized the importance of my decision. I was justified in some way. I realized, and appreciated, that some things are best to see through the rearview mirror.
-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)