Cazenovia, New York is an eccentric but beautiful little town.  I moved here from Ithaca 8 months ago.  There is an odd, old-fashioned quaintness to this place, a unique kind of peace and charm.  It looks rather like a cinematic depiction of the way you might imagine a “typical” small American town might look, like the buildings might turn out to be fake, just parts of a movie set.  But of course it turns out to be not at all typical and everything one sees has real dimension, has unseen depths to it.  It’s the type of place that, when I walk through the downtown streets I feel not only very fortunate to live here but fortunate even to have lived my whole life in so many places and to have experienced so many vicissitudes!  It’s a place that makes me feel thankful for everything, for my life, for the entire world.  Walking through Caz I am aware that this is the last place I will ever live, that here is where the rest of my life will be played out.  This is a very serious thought, one which brings me back to the immediacy of experience, of lived reality.  These days I mostly feel something like a combination of joy on the one hand and a serious and intense resolve on the other.  It’s just a place, but a place where I can feel grounded, where I can face into the oncoming future as a whole and fully present person.