"Used Up"

“It’s funny,” he said, staring into his cup of stale coffee. Looking up at me and somewhat through me, he continued, “How places can become used up.” I have thought of that conversation many times, and how true those simple words have proven to be. He—an older, much wiser classmate—and I had been sharing a table in-between class when we sparked up a conversation about Life in general. He thought it strangely peculiar when I—at my age— understood the reference to the answer being “42;” but, one understands such things when they have an array of older, quirky friends... or a perhaps a babel fish. This was much different than our usual conversations, which often pertained only to higher level sciences, math, or any number of random, casual stories about family. Though we were more of distant friends at that time, his words remained with me. During my many miles on the road that phrase still comes to mind so often… and I realize the depth of what seems to be so elementary. He wasn’t referring to resources, as many would assume. Instead, he was referring to the intangible life that a place can breathe into people.

Places can indeed become “used up.” They can become saturated with memories, and yet stripped of feelings and emotions. Even when thriving economically and socially, they can become barren underneath. Buildings become nothing more than hollow ghosts and landscapes become peculiar, familiar faces... while family, friends, and strangers become one in the same. It is at this time when—much like a tree—roots are dormant, and life appears to have faded into the bleak. It is also at this time when roots are ready to either dig in and grow deeper or become uprooted and transplanted elsewhere.