Yes, I know. It has been a long time since I’ve written here on this blog. Well, much of the reason that I haven’t is actually a result of the topic that I’ve wanted to write about: distraction.
I wanted to write. Really I did. I also wanted to read the books on my bookshelf. But something was getting in my way. Distraction was my problem, and it still is. Well, I needed someone to blame for it all. Was it the incessant chime of a new email in my inbox? Was it work ringing my cell phone? Was it that next big project I wanted to get done on my computer? Was it the text messages vibrating night and day in my pocket? Was it the movie my roommates were watching downstairs in the cool basement on a hot summer’s day?
Since childhood, it seems I have always been drawn to history. One of the first books I remember reading dealt with the American Revolution. And my grandparents had one of those satellite dishes big enough to communicate with E.T. so I would often watch documentaries on the History Channel with my grandfather. There was something in the characters of history that led me to believe that there was still something to be learned from their actions — otherwise why would we bother writing down their experiences? I recently watched the HBO miniseries, John Adams, which caused me to think more about that time period, and what issues are still addressed today. His relationship with his wife, Abigail became most of my focal point in thought. And with that came feminism.
In 2007, I quit my first real job that I had for over three years. There was one main reason in mind for doing so: travel. I’m not necessarily one of those travel junkies like Rick Steves (which is fine if you are), as he seems fascinated with always getting away. I like getting away, but it’s not my point. I may just be floating my own boat, but I feel I view travel differently than most. The idea of traveling to most people is seen as vacation and escape. For me, I’d often rather engage the local community than have a fun and relaxing time, even it that means being uncomfortable sometimes. Traveling has become a way to free myself of self-absorption and the poor decisions I make in that inebriated state. Traveling and its experiences give me a fresh perspective on the life I live at home.
The title I’ve chosen for this blog, “A Native Hill” comes from one of my favorite authors and social commentators Wendell Berry. He wouldn’t much approve of the idea of me writing this on my new laptop consuming a real amount of electricity (with an old but perfectly functioning laptop downstairs connected to a new TV), and especially lobbing this content onto a virtual world of computers linked together with industrialized “server farms” across the globe in an isolated community of individual web users. But nonetheless, he might appreciate my attempt to express even a small amount of what I’ve learned from him to other open ears.
