Until there is more

I keep hoping that whatever I have, whatever there is, will be enough until there is more. It's like growing pains and realizing there's no use in complaining, like having a desire in sight because I'm also the creator of a very real vision which I move toward with all my might. It's as real as anything you've ever touched or tasted, heard or felt; it's a sense that everyone can have what they want. 

My public life follows me home like a shadow, reminding me that no matter which way I turn myself toward the light it will be upon me. Sometimes I look it full on and know that it's me. Sometimes it's out of sight and out of mind, no matter how pervasive it may be in attempting to burn my eyes -- a full emotional replicate alive in my heart. 

And I feel it growing, building, and somehow the same as always -- this town of Marshall. There's a movement going on, and it's happening in so many directions at once that few people can comprehend its scope on such a persistent basis. Such reflections from my eyes are your media -- from my mind and heart, and hands -- showing it back as clearly as possible. Is there any wonder that virtues are found more fully explained than shortcomings -- crucially acknowledged, never cruelly.

And I keep hoping that whatever there is creating this movement will be enough until there is more. I want to climb after all of it, marching after the pieces of the puzzle until the point where the effort has all been for the best. So I fly out in every direction, knowing that each tiny piece is important, that every person's sacrifices count.

Somehow we're moving outward and upward, making the stability we'll need to sustain the community spirit that drives it. Believing in the whole thing, all at once, and being called upon to acknowledge and share the stories of so many different elements playing all out at once -- is maddeningly endearing. Then, I'm at a loss on the point in pushing and shoving toward someone else's hard-gained rewards when they could use their very own persistence, resourcefulness and imagination for the gains they seek. 

Still and daily I become engendered to this magnificent event of momentum that I imagine a community choir, build some buzz for it and make contacts with leaders to get it going. Why not? And as for community pride, everyone has history -- let's celebrate the topic of history itself with lectures and events in a history festival. Let me share my vision with you. Then, let's build it together. 

Coming here, I didn't know I was going to like it. I didn't even like myself back then like I have learned to love my life here in this place. It's something I'm still learning as I pass myself from one doorway to another in hopes of doing one more right thing to prove my part played well. Phone up and phone down, emails, meetings, meetings, meetings... and there's no substitute to living it. I wouldn't trade living it. It makes me pity the ones scraping their expectations against the grit of second hand details, even from me.

I'm living it, not just living with it.

I'm a cheerleader for Hometown Computers. It's building. I see it. I dream it, and I'm in this dream hoping that whatever there is will be enough until there is more. How I could find a town, then a sweet and solid love relationship all in one swipe? It was the answer to a prayer I didn't know with any certainty that I was making.

When Charles Compton appeared, I saw him bravely attempting to shape his own dream from a passion for computers, and I was looking the movement full in the face with my vision for the rest staring me down through the filter of his dream. To say we have everything in the shop would be putting it mildly. Who can put a price tag on someone else's sacrifices?

The best kind of sacrifice is one made in love, whether it be for self or something greater. For the love their own interests Marshall has more going on in the arts, in music, in tourism, with the Birthplace of Boogie Woogie Project, in commerce, with industries, in busily building and creating things than I can keep up with whatever duty there is to see it all maintained. There's no removing the city from any part of these things, and boy wouldn't the political prerogatives be disappointed if they couldn't take some credit for it?

So, I see my visions growing into the movement of the other. I see them separately, like so many first names all around me, moving toward something great and at an achingly fast pace. The centrifugal force demands I stand on the side and do my best to reflect the whole thing, with so much honesty as I can muster. It sucks me in.

I tell myself I have a good compass, that my needle will be just as sharp as I need it be and it won't matter how fast the rest may spin. I set my own paths by this and can leave my own sense of direction at home like I can leave my shadow at the office. 

Marshall's movement is a study, but also an inspiration for me to jump right into believing such potential is not such a silly dream after all. Like the rest, I'm just hoping to have something sweet from seeds of my own sacrifices until whatever I have, whatever there is, will be enough until there is more.