"Falling" in love, again

This blog post is dedicated to the mighty stumble of June 2020

I was just about to lose faith in my town. Then, something expected happened.

I tripped.

I was walking (wildly distracted) through Oakley Square — a small parcel of land in one of Cincinnati's bustling and family-friendly neighborhoods — and fell over myself, bringing me face-to-face with a rusted sign of the landmark's history.

It's a sign I've passed almost every day for the past 2 years and never once stopped to notice before.

So, why now?

Well, I'm convinced it's a sign (both in the literal and figurative sense) of something I just needed to see to fall in love with my town all over again.

Prologue: the good old days

Lately, I've fell "out of love" with what's left of Oakley's charm and small-town feel. Turns out, I'm not the only one who feels that way either.

My affection slowly tarnished as the rise of expensive luxury home apartment buildings and vast new chain-infested shopping centers left me to painfully experience the creeping overpopulation of the already cozy neighborhood.

Getting anywhere was, and is, impossible, especially during peak hours of the day. It's abundantly clear now that the neighborhood's various city planners throughout the 1900s didn't anticipate ridiculous strip-malls as far as the eye can see.

Am I over exaggerating? Possibly. But you tell me: how many Great Clips do we really need?

A short introduction: an unbiased look at Oakley

Photographic unbiased evidence of my moving-to-Cincinnati chronicles

July 2017

(Yes, the second picture is my sleeping bag in my empty apartment. I refer to this photo as the time I went "adult-camping.")

When I first moved to Oakley, the desolate pockets of land were a site to cherish. They told the history of Oakley's industrial and rigid past as a popular stop for wagon-drivers, a home to horse racing and a tribute to Annie Oakley, a sharpshooter who had the popularity of today's Brad Pitt.

The neighborhood's close proximity to Downtown Cincinnati made it an ideal home for an introvert like me who enjoyed the option of subjecting oneself to social vices, but usually retreated to quiet family-owned eateries. (Like this personal favorite, that is over 73-years old.)

One could affordably indulge in supporting local-business owners because they paid a modest rent. They were also arguably more creative on a daily basis because their morning runs were quiet and maybe the only time of the day their imagination could run wild set to the backdrop of Oakley's historic railroads and roadways.

And while the charm still faintly exists, it feels widely forgotten. Today, cultural and consumer fads seemingly overpower any conservation efforts. So what is one to do?

Summary: a compromise

While I'm not crazy about all the new developments, I am a human being in a capitalist society. Thus, I understand.

And if there is anything I've learned amidst the Coronavirus pandemic, it's that you cannot always choose your circumstances, but you can choose how you react to them. Perhaps the Dalai Lama says it best:

"When we meet real tragedy in life, we can react in two ways - either by losing hope and falling into self-destructive habits, or by using the challenge to find our inner strength. Thanks to the teachings of Buddha, I have been able to take this second way."

Is the commercial revitalization a tragedy for the people of Oakley? Probably not. But it is an opportunity for the contenders to practice ultimate presentness and be grateful for the historic gems that still do exist.

Which leads me back to the fall (see dedication).

After cursing my clumsiness, I admired the sign in Oakley Square, which highlights some pretty magnificent buildings like the iconic Twentieth Century Theatre and the adjacent sprawling historic houses.

I reflected. Pre-pandemic, the square hosted a myriad of activities designed to keep the community together. Events like Easter egg hunts, garage sales and concerts in the park fill my most treasured memories of my time in this community. And even in a post-largest-Kroger-in-the-country era (built at the infamous Oakley Station), these treasured events were still hosted at my beloved Oakley Square.

This was it. Recalling pastimes, I realized this was the reason I lived in Oakley.

I felt warm inside as the rushing feelings of appreciation, community and nostalgia hugged my bones. Memories were my anchor for staying put.

Conclusion: a lesson in mindfulness

Even if I lived in Oakley at its prime — say circa 2005 — I probably wouldn't feel this admiration every day. The intricacies of day-to-day life would inevitably get in the way and I would fall fatal to the vicious cycle that is life: work, sleep, play, repeat.

But what I'd like to believe would anchor me would be that Saturday morning walk, where I visit my favorite gems and reflect. I would find the willpower to take two-minutes uninterrupted and express my gratitude.

Fast forward 15 years in my little scenario, why can't I do that today? Surely, I can make time. Surely, I can fall in love again.

One can only try.

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Acknowledgements

Thank you, Oakley Square, for standing as a symbol of why those, like me, love to live in this tiny little Cincinnati suburb.

See you next Saturday.