I recently traveled to Ohio’s Amish country. Sure, it’s not the typical jet-setter trip that lights up one’s social media feed with likes and comments on pictures of exotic locations in distant lands. But still, I find that this trek to a nearby place, one that highlights a very different way of life, to be surprisingly refreshing. In fact, for me, it tends to reset my internal clock. It reboots the way my mind interprets the world.
Perhaps it’s the peaceful clash of two very different worlds. One world that easily indulges in the luxuries of modernity, and one that consciously forgoes them. Or maybe it’s the gentle nature of a group of people who have chosen a very unique lifestyle. A choice that places them squarely in the world, but not actually part of the world—at least the “world” as we tend to define it.
I find it fascinating that many of the Amish conduct business with those outside their close-knit community, interacting with an outside world on a daily basis. Coming face to face, daily, with many of the luxuries and amenities that they have decided to do without.
But in order to forgo said luxuries and conveniences, one would think it would require a fear or deep dislike of a world that indulges freely in them. But I don’t see this type of callousness from the Amish community. Instead, they gently interact with those of us who have traveled—some may even say invaded—their peaceful countryside. Showing no hostility to us outsiders. Rather, a gentle smile. A soft hello. A demure wave from the seat of a buggy.
Every time I go to Amish country, my respect and admiration for those who choose this lifestyle grows. Every time I go there, I come back refreshed, renewed by the strength and kindness of a gentle community.
