Yesterday I did some exploring in my new city, and I found myself getting lost in various labyrinths of old things. I passed through rows and rows of used books, antique china, vintage cameras, furniture, all sorts of things that were once something to someone and could be something else to someone else.
Every time I go shopping and see a piece that catches my eye, I have to ask myself: is this who I want to be? The question suggests that I define myself by my things, but it's the other way around. I want who I am to be reflected in the things that I wear on my body, the things that I see everyday in my home and carry with me when I go out the door. Each new piece I acquire is an opportunity to uncover parts of myself that I may or may not have noticed previously.
The sky was a fading blue as I drove away with two new (to me) books in my passenger seat. Cars were commuting home, but somehow there didn't seem to be any hurrying. I felt like I understood Roanoke a bit more than I had before my little adventure. Seeing the worn antiques and dusty books that were all still beautiful reminded me that Roanoke itself is also a very old and beautiful thing. I still hardly know the land, the culture, the generations of families that make up this city. They have all been something to many someones, and now will be something else to me. I wonder where I will see myself reflected in the shape of this place.