Courtney and I have a loose boundary—or perhaps more of a gravitational center— that keeps us circling the several blocks around our home at 117 1/2 South 6th. There is not some invisible fence or moral code that keeps us from leaving. We often take a day trip here or there. And I give a few guitar lessons 10-20 minutes away each week. But whenever I get in the car and drive it feels like I'm expelling something extra in order to break orbit. This afternoon I had the thought smash against my forehead that our little 3 block experiment—still strange to many—was now everyday to me.
I was sitting at the coffee shop (2 blocks from our house) talking to a friend who happened to be there as well. We ended up chatting for nearly an hour. This was after Courtney and I had been at church that morning (2 blocks away) and had last second lunch with some friends (4 blocks away). Had this sort of closeness and impromptu happened 4 years ago it would have been a day for the books. Not that it's like that all day every day, but enough that it no longer shocks me.
So I took a moment to remember. No one can live on always new, always different. But the danger of the new normal is that you can lose an appreciation for what was at one time revolutionary and liberating and only see what is wrong instead of being grateful.