Lately, I’ve been feeling that I fit my life — big enough so there’s room to grow but not so big that I get lost in it, small enough to be content but not so tight that it confines and restricts.
For the first time, the fit feels about right.
This came as a surprise. I don’t know if I grew into my life or let enough air out to right-size it, or dumped enough dead weight to give me lift.
Or maybe my life always fit just right but I wasn’t ready to accept it — living within limits, living up to possibilities.
I like the setting. Same town I grew up in, though in some ways very different towns. Then and now, it’s a good place to be who you’re going to be. Not perfect of course: Taxes, parking, leaf pickup, bike plans. Racism and other nasty -isms lurk here like anywhere else. This town can be a pedestrian’s heaven and a driver’s hell. It’s a mix.
The climate is changing here like everywhere else, so that’s a big question mark. I hope my health holds. Lots of variables, but that’s true in every town and in everyone’s life.
I like four seasons, and the Midwest is an avid practitioner. I’m not a big fan of winter, but three out of four ain’t bad, and without winter I wouldn’t appreciate the others so much. Some like winter much more than summer, especially this summer which was no prize, weather-wise.
But the trees please and the birds sing sweetly as they poop on our cars. Flowers flourish and nourish. Nothing exotic, but exotic is what travel is for. If I need a change of scenery, I can always visit the climate zones in the Oak Park Conservatory or go off on movie escapades at the Lake Theatre, walk along Lake Michigan, meander through Morton Arboretum, Brookfield Zoo, and even Oak Brook Mall. I always feel better about Oak Park after I’ve been to Oak Brook.
The sidewalks here are wide enough for two-way foot traffic (or three-way with dogs). I like the parkways and small lawns with front-yard gardens. The sound of crickets provide an evening’s excellent second act after the cicadas finally shut up (cicadas being an acquired taste that I have yet to acquire).
All in all, this is a good place to wait for the apocalypse to play itself out. If we can’t stop it, we can become a laboratory for better living. Once the worst is over, we’ll need models for a new way to live. With a little extra effort, we could be that model. We’re almost there now.
Oak Park, like my life, feels manageable. Not too big, not too small. Not too urban, not too suburban. It’s not rural, but you can drive an hour and find fields of infinite corn or fields of infinite prairie. Closer to home, we have prairie-style architecture, invented by a famous horizontalist.
Here in the heartland we avoid the extremes without settling for mediocrity, content without being smug — a good balance.
There are so many interesting people here. We have just enough characters to give the joint atmosphere. And we have enough diversity to make you believe we mean it — that we’re hungry for fairness and even equality.
This is a good town to live into, a good place to let go of unrealistic notions and unrealizable hopes. You don’t need to be famous to live here. I’m not sure you can be famous living here, though some have tried and some famous people came from here. Hemingway and Wright notwithstanding, this is not a star-struck town.
Neither is the place complacent. It’s not a comfort zone. It’s a discomfort zone, worth the hassles. I liked growing up here. I liked leaving for some years and moving back to find a far more interesting town than the one I left. The current version is right for me, and I’m finally feeling like I might be right for this town.
Oak Park is imperfect, but so am I. Oak Park isn’t sheltered, isn’t insulated, isn’t elitist and entitled, isn’t overconfident yet doesn’t suffer from an inferiority complex. It’s not too hot and not too cold. It’s just right, but we’re no bowl of porridge.
And I’m beginning to fit into my life here. Not aiming too high, not aiming too low. Not wanting too much, not wanting too little. Not trying too hard — just trying harder.
I ended up here thanks to my parents, and I ended up back here thanks to circumstances largely beyond my control. If luck really is where preparation meets opportunity, then Oak Park is lucky and so am I.
Maybe I finally reached the point where I have chosen the life that has chosen me.
You can’t ask for much more than that.