Penny Road

The other day I decided to take a slightly different way home. Aside from a cat and mouse that I played with an SUV, most of the ride home was uneventful. I wasn’t sure exactly sure how Algonquin Road interfaced with Bartlett Road so I was pleased to find a well marked intersection with Penny Road, a road I had seen on an earlier trip. I distinctly remembered how Penny and Bartlett had a 4-way stop.

Penny Road
(Use street view to a better effect.)

So I turned off onto Penny Road and given the lack of population and the mostly empty street, I started to think about something other than driving. I sometimes find driving through Barrington troubling. I say this because the sheer amount of wealth in the city is off-putting. I don’t know if it is because I have no chance of ever attaining this kind of money, being content with being a problem solver of the computer variety, or knowing that I would have little in common with the people that do live there.

I mused over my life at these times. I looked at the huge homes, complete with colonade facades and wondered what kind of stress might reside there. The poor think that being rich leads to an easy life, and that might be true. I would think that being rich has its own stresses. How do you live without losing what you have? How to support those people that work for you. (I still haven’t dehumanized those with wealth.) When I die, how can I leave things to my children. Ok, Ok. Maybe that isn’t such a hard life. But I do know that wealth, stuff, doesn’t make one happy. I’m trying to get rid of stuff.

Carrying these things for the last 30 years hasn’t brought me any happiness. My happiness is in my surroundings, my planet, my family...and my motorcycle. and my bicycle. Well, maybe some things do bring me some degree of happiness.

My wife and I are embarking on a plan to shed ourselves of a lot of the baggage that we carry. Some of that is psychological, granted. Realizing that it is just stuff. Merely stuff. That has done my world a lot of good. I have a goal, a goal that doesn’t orbit stuff. Stuff is merely a tool. When I die, I can’t take stuff. The stuff stays behind. Why leave behind any stuff at all? My kids don’t need stuff. etc. etc.


I think what was most striking to me is how my desires for my life is juxtaposed against those that live on Penny Road. I don’t want to judge them harshly, but it seems that at this point in my life, they are everything that I am not. Perhaps they are what I aspired to at some other point in my life, but I can’t recall it. I think I am happier because of my new desire to let go of desire (to go all buddhist on your ***.) I don’t need this. What I want is a hill to climb, a path to ride on and an occasional cow in her pasture that I can discuss the meaning of life with. My expectations aren’t much, and they don’t need to be. Life is profoundly worth living. It is even better with friends you find along the way. Stuff? I only need it to make sure some needs are met. Otherwise, I think I’m better off without the clutter.