Dante's Business Trip

Like last year, I am being shipped off again to work the summer far away from home. It’s something I am loath to do, and very resistant to.

And I have found that although most people seem to agree that business travel is not something they’re excited about, I am of an apparently small minority who would prefer none at all, regardless of the destination. In mentioning the locales to which I may be sent, I have had “Oooh!” and “Awesome!” responses when all I can think of is how disruptive the travel is. How it keeps me away from a routine that is important to me and a man who is even more so.

Still, this year’s options are admittedly more favorable than last year’s.

Utah was smoggy, hot, and a cultural desert. I spent nearly two months in a concrete warehouse by day and a concrete hotel by night. It was odd to think of Utah Valley as the Promised Land for God’s Chosen People. It made me wonder what those people had done wrong to have that be their reward. That question remains unanswered, but my guess is that it’s their reward for being interminably dull.

This year, I may find myself in another desert, but not the cultural kind. Oregon and California are high on the list of probable destinations, and I’m relieved.

So although this sort of extended trip away from home is a Danteian nightmare for me, it is more palatable than it has been in the past. Rather than being sent to the Seventh Circle’s inner ring, for example, I’m merely headed for the Second or Third Circle. It seems reasonable to me, as I am not violent, but I love food, drink, and men. So I’m not thrilled with it, but at least it makes sense.

Still, who wouldn’t rather spend a summer in even the first sphere of Paradiso?

Today's Choices

It’s always been my feeling that every day we make all our decisions all over again. Decisions we don’t even consciously consider, but that we could make in a different way. By not changing our minds, we choose to continue our current path.

Such is life. I continue to choose not to quit my job, leave my beloved Head Chef, or go on a murderous rampage. I may consider all or none of these things consciously every single day, but the choice is made by not choosing to change course.

And so it is with being here in Hawai`i. Some days, I consciously reconsider the choice I made to come here, and carefully weigh the possibility of changing my mind. Because living in Paradise is not without its taxes.

By taxes I simply mean those tradeoffs that are made to be here. The well-run city in exchange for the good weather. The friends I could see daily in exchange for the good weather. The cushy job I had, the big beautiful old house, the crunchy culture and the ability to travel in exchange for the good weather.

And I do kid, of course. Hawai`i is magical in so many ways, and good weather is only a part of it. Beaches, lively beach towns, and Waikiki at night are glorious. And there are other things, too. Hula is extraordinary and beautiful. Hawaiian music doesn’t sound as good anywhere else. I eat sushi now, and it was caught that same day. I’ve never grown houseplants in my yard and watched them mature into trees before. And a new batch of eager untanned faces ready for fun shows up every week just ready to make new friends.

But sometimes these gains are small consolation for the losses I had to incur to access them.

When I think about these trade-offs, or I’m putting in another 60-hour work week and feel ready to officially regret my choice to live here, my thoughts settle on recurring themes. Am I ready to admit to myself and to those who said I shouldn’t move that I made a mistake? Am I just being impatient, or should I stick it out and work to make it better?

So far, I have chosen to stay - to work toward making this experiment a success. To not run from the uncomfortable parts of this move because even though it’s now two years in the past, it’s still rather fresh. I am not ready to accept that this was a mistake.

Yes, yes, emphatically YES I miss home. Nothing is more telling than the fact that it is still home to me, and not this string of lovely warm islands. But I am not ready to give up, and I am hopeful that this will be home some day if I am just patient and diligent.