Reflections in view of the West Bench

"By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest." ~Confucius

I'm back in Utah for a long weekend. So far I've spent most of my time with Mallie, and I'm going to meet up with John tonight and I'll stay with him for a couple of days. But right now, I'm sitting about half a mile from my old apartment at a Beans & Brews that didn't exist when I left and I'm taking stock of my time spent in this state. With the East Bench at my back and the West Bench looking in at me through floor to ceiling glass panes, I'm reminded strongly of my mornings. So many of my morning drives to work were started with a breath-taking view of the Wasatch front, and more often than not I thanked God for loving me enough to let me live in such a magnificent place. I'm not saying that everything out here is rosy, but I am saying that I used to feel like no matter what came my way, I would persevere in the path that I knew God had laid for me. And that's what I miss more than anything. It's not just the mountains, it's certainly not the food (although there is a new In & Out Burger here.), it's not even really my Utah friends (though I miss them as well, and have been blessed to see them.). None of those are the things from which I can't let go. I miss riding through the troughs and crests of experience as a singular creation. I have come to realize that it is folly to say things like, "I can make it on my own," or "I'm an independent man," or even, "Me and God and that's all." That's not right, and it will lead you down paths that are not only lonely, but that way leads around the mountain again. But it's good to balance the need for peers and those that can hold the mirror to our soul and fleshing out the lessons that God has forged in us through tribulation by trying to stand and walk. And Utah was a wonderful spiritual gymnasium for me. I didn't make all the right decisions and I didn't follow the lead of Love always, but I got to see what "real life" looked like after walking in infantile darkness for the better part of 8 years. And the taste of the "real" was glorious. That's what I miss.

But as I recreate these scenes in my head, a fear is piquing in the depths of my mind. Bonnie told me before I moved back to Oklahoma, "Just remember, Ben, you can never go Home." And although it was a little lost on me at the time as I knew what she meant, but I knew that I was returning to a very comfortable place, her sentiment resonates when I try and think of what it would take to live here again. I wouldn't start with Ab and Brandi this time, my family is still living back in Sooner country, my brothers are on the East Coast. I would be alone again, and that is a hard thing to abide. And although it frustrates me to no end that Milton may have been hitting more close to home than I would care to admit, I don't have a female counterpart with which to share my experiences. And I'm afraid that a place is only as good as the people with which you spend your time. And without a wife, I would only be trading one set of inadequacies for another.

So, at this point there are no regrets for how life has gone in the last three or four years, but there are certainly places I remember, in my life, though some have changed. And I will look to the opportunities of the future, and remember every step of the journey with joy because I know it is perfecting me.

Location:Draper,UT