The choice to be OK

It's easy to succumb to low morale right now. Every time I check my online news sources I'm faced with another tragic story and yet another reason to take hold of defeatism. Shootings, acts of terror, dysfunctional families, and politics seem to reign supreme, not to mention the issues which hit closer to home like murder, a dysfunctional city government, and increased airport noise.

I like Christmastime. I love the cold weather and the hope of snow at the appropriate time when I can break out a cup of cider, gaze upon the decorations, listen to a Christmas album and enjoy my family. There are few things like it throughout the rest of the year. That is, except for summer evenings in Sisters. There is truly nothing like those.

I sat out on my front porch seeking silence, peace, and solitude from the noise of the rest of my life. I was struck by the fiery horizon as the sun set behind Mt. Washington and Black Butte just past the row of tall ponderosa pines that line my street.

As I sat there I found myself reflecting on how thankful I am to live in a place like Sisters. Yes, being raised here, I had my fair share of years of taking it for granted. After graduating from Sisters High School in 2003, I did what I was "supposed" to do and moved away to experience what the rest of the world and life had to offer, but I had my butt sufficiently kicked by adult existence outside of my hometown. Since then, I have had the privilege of getting to return home and only now, in my adult years, do I realize how lucky I am to live in a peaceful place like this.

In an age where it truly feels like clinging to hope is a losing game I have found myself at a loss for words in the knowledge that I get to live and raise my family in a place like Sisters, where I can sit on my front porch on a summer evening and enjoy complete silence and fresh air. During the day, do the airplanes at the Sisters Airport make more noise than they used to? Sure, but my kids get too much of a kick out of seeing the paratroopers drop from the sky for me to choose to be mad about it.

On an evening of solitude such as this, all I hear is the sound of my lungs as they breathe in the fresh and crisp Central Oregon air and as I exhale that breath I realize that I may not possess complete peace because of how crazy life continues to be - but it's okay no matter what may come my way, I'll be okay tomorrow. I live in a place where I can experience the space each evening to be able to realize that.

And even if the world around me is falling apart, the choice to be okay lies with me alone.