Rhythm of a Life Unleashed

This is the end of the first week back to work after sabbatical. It was a lot like hitting yourself over the head with a flounder. It is difficult to go from the rhythm of Oxford to the rhythm of Atlanta.

Oxford, of course, is the relaxed life that lives on the edge of fantasy. Where Atlanta, on the other hand, is smack in the middle of reality. It doesn’t take long for the stronger to cast a shadow on the weaker. Ah well, such is life.

The hope here is that I can some way merge the two. I need to pay the rent but I also need to service the soul. It is said that a healthy life is a balanced life. With luck perhaps I can find that balance before I’m ready to take the great dirt nap.

Something has been discovered this week. The Meadow at Christ Church was a wonderful place to start the morning. The walk down by the river was terrific and contributed heavily to my enjoyment of Oxford. I’ve already talked about this, perhaps more than anyone can stand, and even put up the Walkabout page on my web site.

For the last two weeks I have been starting my mornings in Piedmont Park here in mid-town Atlanta. It first I was struck by the difference between the two parks and in my mind it was obvious that Christ Church was superior. Now I’m not so sure. Yes, the Meadow was remarkable, but I’m finding that Piedmont has its points.

Piedmont Part is a beautiful park. It is huge, intelligently laid out, and well designed for the people who would be using it. The park staff is large, on the job early in the morning and always courteous. This last weekend there was a large event in the park that provided more litter than I would have thought possible. On my Monday morning walk I took a look and was truly depressed. By my Tuesday morning walk the litter was gone and there was no evidence that anything had happened over the weekend. The volume was amazing and that made the cleanup even more spectacular.

The Meadows is the King’s Park. It was build for the elite white male that has been in control for most of our history. The feeling there was one of quiet and tranquility. There was no hurry, there was no threat of violence and there was no sense that reality was anywhere in the neighborhood. By leaving the busy street outside the college you walked back in time to a protected world. There was an underlying feeling of denial of the decay and troubles that surround us.

Piedmont Park is the People’s Park. It is full of people all of its open hours and they are using the park the way a public park should be used. Runners, people walking, people walking or running pushing baby carriages, fields being recondition for sport teams, paths, roller bladers, bike riders, men who seem to be sitting all day on their park bench and I’ve already mentioned the sex workers and last nights junkies. Violence lurks just below the surface, and you need to keep your eyes open. This park is alive with activity that reflects the realities of life, both good and bad.

While in many ways the parks are polar opposites, they both have their beauty and they both have a dark side. One seems to represent the fantasy and one the reality that have made up my last two months. To someone who has pretensions of being an artist and storyteller, they both have real value.

I have brought all this back to work and now the challenge is to find the balance between the two. Can you say, “Good Luck, Guy”? I’m going to need it.