The Land That Time Forgot

I often take walks in Brookwood Hills-technically, my own neighborhood (at least for another few days), though I live on the wrong side of the tracks (seriously-the Amtrak station is a block away!). What amazes me about this little enclave is that it literally sits in the shadow of Midtown--of office buildings that are home to Wachovia (wait, Citibank--no Wells Fargo), AIG and other financial institutions at the center of the largest economic crisis this country has experienced in nearly a century.

And yet, in Brookwood Hills--at least to an outsider looking in--everything looks normal. Families dwell in million dollar homes, drive their luxury cars and SUV's, watch their kids play in the uniforms required by their $20,000/year private schools, walk their dogs in the shadow of signs for presidential candidates--with no evidence that their lives are or will be affected by the world outside their little enclave.

Ironically, amidst the doomsday speak, my life is so far unaffected, much like the residents of that idyllic place. Sure, I still live paycheck to paycheck, I should have more savings, and I really need to start saving for retirement, but other than a family loan and good old Uncle Sam, I am relatively debt free. I learned that lesson a long time ago, and I'm starting to downsize my dreams so that they are not only more in line with not only my budget, but my reality. Because I'm starting to think that even if I had the money, I wouldn't spend it on a million dollar home, a $50,000 car or exclusive private school. I've learned the hard way that life is about experiences, not possessions. And I believe that I am building a life that emphasizes those things which are ultimately worthy of my time and energy. And if I need to escape--there's always Brookwood Hills.