Changing

About seven months ago, I met a fellow Iowan on my train ride from the airport to my new home in PA. He warned me that staying here for too long would change me, and he didn't want to see that happen to me as it had to him. He had become hardened and life became hectic in the way it does in this region.

His warning has rattled around in my head for the last seven months. Everywhere I have lived has had its impact - making up this mosaic of me. And in the past few weeks, I've had a nagging feeling that a change is taking place. My pace of life has raced from tortoise to hare speed and my level of stress has gone from ocean bottom to the surface of the moon. And as I frantically run along in hopes of keeping up, I mourn the loss of being able to stop and breath without feeling guilty.

I don't share this to complain or fish for sympathy. Each chapter of life is different from the last. I just fear that I have forgotten how to slow down and be in awe of what is around me. And that scares me more than just about anything else.