Where We Are. Or Aren’t.

So Gerald Locklin has to write this “where we are” poem and bug me with it. Here’s how it goes:

i envy those
who live in two places:
new york, say, and london;
wales and spain;
l.a. and paris;
hawaii and switzerland.

there is always the anticipation
of the change, the chance that what is wrong
is the result of where you are. i have
always loved both the freshness of
arriving and the relief of leaving. with
two homes every move would be a homecoming.
i am not even considering the weather, hot
or cold, dry or wet: i am talking about hope.

Now don’t get hung up on the two homes bit. I mean everybody needs one home before any of us deserve two, but as the penetrating last line intimates, this is not the point. Locklin’s topic is hope.

Or is it?

I really don’t know.

I’m infected with the matter under discussion. It permeates Christianity, what with the “this world is not my home” sort of thinking. It sells in American capitalism, too: we are always looking for something else. There are some great words for this, hope notwithstanding. Words like quest and journey and anticipation and Chicago Cubs.

But there’s the negative end of it, too. Oddly enough, in Christianity the same Bible author dude who talks about “pressing on to take hold” writes about learning the secret of being content in all situations. Yes, words like contentment and fulfillment and presence, and for lovers of all things French, c’est la vie, seem to fly in the face of Locklin’s anticipation.

So which is it? Or, better, where is the balance between the two?

I suspect someone might be tempted to offer the Serenity Prayer in response – God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. I’ll give you that one if you’ll allow my addendum to the Serenity Prayer – And, Lord, please give one of those people you gave the wisdom to know the difference enough writing ability to expound on the Serenity Prayer just a tad.

I’m infected with Locklin’s hope. I guess I’m just wondering today if I should exult, or request some antibiotics.