My sister and I went on walkabout today. I couldn’t resist, beautiful blue skies, mild temps, it was a must. We headed out on one of my favorite routes that goes through the side of town we grew up in. It’s rough and depressed, but it’s still a part of me. People ask me all the time, “why do you still walk through there?” The answer is, I really don’t know. It’s still a part of me, I guess. I don’t fear for my safety or feel out of place. I’ve walked or driven those streets a million times and know them all very well. I can get around without ever having to look at a street sign. This has been a discussion with my counselor as well. There are so many bad memories there, why do I still go? Numerous discussions have been had about the subject, and I’m still searching for an answer that I can give, at least one that makes sense.

Once we reached an area that we spent a portion of our childhood in, I said “let’s go down this street and take a look at our old house.” It’s the home that we probably spent the most years in, but it kind of represents all the different houses we lived in. If anything, I had feelings of sadness seeing the house. It hasn’t changed a lot from the time we lived in it. Has a certain feeling of darkness. Not that all memories there were bad, but different. We moved around enough that nothing ever really felt like home. It seemed as though once we started to make “normal”, it was time to move on to the next spot. Something I didn’t understand as a child. Some homes seemed alright, so why were we moving again? I wouldn’t understand the answer to that question until I became an adult. Money and finances were not my parents’ strong suit. During these times they looked for homes that were considered buying “on land contract.” The intent was to stay, it just didn’t work out.

Walking past this particular house got us talking more about people that we knew in the neighborhood. I delivered papers on this street and knew pretty much everyone back then. Homes that my friends grew up in and areas we ran around in. It was always a little on the edge, but the look of it now really makes you sad. Numerous houses now gone, torn down, others in serious disrepair and looking almost unlivable. This expanded our conversation to include “what the hell happened to society?” How did we ever get to this? My brain would then go to, how are the kids on this street growing up now? I know the damage that came with my upbringing. What level of hurt would they have and pass on to others? Very deep and unsettling thoughts.

We continued on and worked our way through the area. Then headed towards the river. As you’d go, you could see a house here, and a house there that looked as though they were still trying to hold on. Like islands in a land of insanity. Small walled up fortresses standing their ground against the darkness. Do you think these people fear the night? Do they wonder if/when the tide will finally flood over them and take their island down into blackness? I know, they’re dark thoughts, but it’s real. Every block we go through has this same look. What can be done to stop the spread of this virus? How can we get it back to “normal” again? Questions that we can all ponder. I’ve always hoped that one day this side of town would find it’s way through and become full of life again.

More discussions. My Sis and I thought, if only people would communicate again. Maybe that’s part of the problem. Step away from social media and engage in realism. Maybe step outside of your small island and attempt to make things better with a neighbor. Pick things up, help others learn to be self-sufficient. Teach! Teach people to take pride in anything and everything they have. Conversations are the way. We need to be beacons of hope, rather than spreading sorrow. I’ve seen enough sorrow to last a lifetime, and then some. “We need to bring our own light to the darkness.” I like that. There’s an old saying “it takes a village.” I say this a lot at work. I treat my office in just this way. We work together with a goal of succeeding. If this is carried into these neighborhoods, and taught to those that want to live better, that want to raise their children in an environment that’ll breed happiness, and comfort, it should be done. What’s the alternative? I think we’re seeing it on full display all across this country. Neighborhoods and communities are dying.

If you’re a fan of Harry Potter or The Hobbit series. You’ll probably be able to envision the darkness that I see at times. The blackness spreading and consuming everything in its path. While I see these things, I also know that I have it within myself to make better. Ask yourself what you can do that can make a positive change in the world. Then ask, how can I spread this positive mindset to others? We can turn the tide. We can push back the wave of blackness and make things right. I choose light over darkness. I choose right over wrong, good over evil. I choose to be Harry Potter or Bilbo Baggins! We need to be the heroes of our story and help others to do the same.

“We need to bring our own light to the darkness.” Bring your light. Shine as long as you can and with everything you have. I refuse to give up. Perhaps that’s part of the answer as to why I still walk through my old neighborhoods. I’m trying to bring the light into the darkness.

As always, thanks for reading. I’ll get back with you all soon. I have much more to say on this topic and so many others.

I’ll see you on the road

~Zombie~