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While I take my time uploading photos of the trip to the South of France (clearly I’m still operating on vacation time), I was (perhaps because I’ve been questioning what it is I really want– a dangerous question!), thinking about what home is to me. (obviously a topic on my mind)
Home, in its ultimate sense, is in the center of me and yet paradoxically much bigger than me, but I think what I mean here is the home one builds for oneself throughout life. The center that expands as we come across new desires, “additions” if you will, and that we continue to remodel and redesign as we zoom around discovering new adventures and ways of being.
Lately, perhaps because I’ve been living in those “uptown” city apartments for so many years, I find myself really craving the manifestation of home… the home that I knew growing up with a yard and a garden and a dog and a view and a kitchen guests are welcome in and a deck that invites friends to stay in their pajamas while laughing and visiting in the sunshine well past the morning hours. Home.
A friend of mine and I actually have a code word for this: Both of us grew up in a small mountain community and both of us are living that city girl life. Whenever stress levels reach the point of ridiculousness, we say to each other “Elmo!” (If you’ve ever seen the show “Men in trees”– that’s where this is from.) To us, Elmo! is that word that means, get me back home to real life!!
So, while I’m not quite pulling the Elmo! card here (how could I? I still have vacation glow), I am saying that vacation has given me a time to think and breathe…
And for those of you who know me… this can lead to many things. (She says with a devious smile.) 
The High Line park debuted itself to the city of Manhattan last week — the perfect opportunity to investigate this long (1 1/2 mile) elevated park on the West Side of the city. This reprieve from the city streets below is surprisingly calm — one genuinely feels a bit smoother on the inside upon arrival. And I know this wasn’t just me — the pace of the people walking the length of the park (that spans through the Meatpacking District, West Chelsea, and Clinton’s/Hell’s Kitchen) on opening weekend was that of a meander. A rare pace in the (great!) madness that is Manhattan.
The original “High Line” was built in the 1930′s when the city decided that sending speeding trains through Manhattan was not an all-together safe idea — apparently, when the tracks were still at street level, their path was referred to as “Death Avenue” — men on horseback rode in front of the trains (West Side Cowboys!) to alert people that a train was coming. So cool! (And yet logistically frightening!)
(Image from the High Line Website– click through to see more or visit the High Line Blog for more info.)
Anyway, today they integrated the original train tracks into the design… mixing horticulture and history. A great addition to the city indeed!
I realize I’ve mentioned Farmer’s Markets before but it’s coming at you again (with a slideshow this time!): If you’re in NY on a sunny Saturday and searching for something to do that is casual/relating to food/not too taxing/an adventure for the senses… I recommend the Farmer’s Market at Union Square. People strolling, buying fresh food and flowers and bread and pie, laughing, crying (apparently the kid really wanted that berry pie), savoring (while sampling), etc.
Good start to the day…makes one feel connected (interesting how talking to the farmers who grow your food can do that.)
Let’s face it, business travel doesn’t exactly set the stage for truly experiencing WHERE you are. For example, a recent expedition I set out on went as follows:
Woke up in San Francisco. Flew to Minneapolis. Had meetings. Next day flew to Chicago. Had meetings. Next day flew to Los Angeles. Had meetings. Had more meetings. Flew back to San Francisco. By Friday– I could have been in a moon crater and I would only have about a 50% chance of knowing where I was.
And this is a dilemma for someone who actually likes to travel, such as myself.
So this week I had a wake-up-fly-to-Boston-have-meeting-have-another-meeting-then-fly-back-to-New York-in-one-day experience. Business, of course, plays center stage of the theatre production called My Crazy City Career, but here’s the supporting character in this performance: Adventure.
I’d never been to Boston! I really wanted to experience Boston!! New Place!!! New People!!!! New Adventure!!!!!
Was I able to do any of this?
No. Not really.
But I did what I could in the small windows (um. literally.) I had. Here are my tips to experiencing a new place when you have little time to do so:
1. When entering the New Place, open your eyes! If you’re flying, look up from your laptop or away from the tv screen and check out this New Place. An aerial view is a great way to get a sense of a New Place. (Boston! My face was basically glued to the little oval window soaking in the amazing historic-looking estates in the outskirts of the city, the white or brick church steeples, the purposeful boats in the harbor, the crazy zig-zagged streets of the city, etc.) If you don’t get to this New Place by air and you’re on a train, in a car, or perhaps arrive via beaming mechanism, my advice stands. Open your eyes and look around! (especially if you’re driving. good tip.)
2. In this New Place, be on the lookout for at least one detail that is A. unique to the location B. unique for you (something you see for the first time?). Really. Challenge yourself to spot just one thing, ONE THING, that is different from what you see in your “usual” day to day. And yes, I know, you’ve got a lot to do…very important things…blah blah blah. But…ONE THING. That’s all I’m asking for here. (In the Boston Logan airport I saw a row of white rocking chairs. So cool! Bringing a little bit of New England feel into the airport… well done!)
(photo by Matt Walker)
3. Take five minutes to relax yourself enough to receive this New Place. The architecture, the rhythms, the dialect, the food, the smell– receive it. Look, I know… you’ve got a Very Important Presentation you need to prepare for in your mind or a Very Important Meeting that needs to go “your way”… but to that I say this: relaxing enough to get yourself grounded where you are could actually help you to achieve success with whatever you’re there to accomplish. And taking a few deep breaths and noticing the life of a New Place can help you feel more alive in yourself (as opposed to feeling like a walking, flying, taxiing, laptop toting, smart phone addicted, Crazy City Career Zombie). (En route back to the Boston Logan airport, the taxi driver drove us along Newbury Street. Newbury Street!! Charming and astute architecture, trees lining the street, great feeling.) (*Sigh*) (*Smile*) (*return to checking emails*)
(This photo is not mine and doesn’t really capture what the street felt like to me…but it’s what I could find for now and shows a bit of the charm. Well, sort-of-but-not-really. Look, I don’t have time take an actual picture. Very Important Emails to be checked…)
4. Be Grateful. You have a job! You’re exploring new land! You’re getting out and about when otherwise you’d be cooped up in an office with office air and office chairs and office desks and office colors. While biz travel may add stress to your already stressful day, feel gratitude for at least one small moment. You’re alive. You’re doing your thing. You’re experiencing a New Place.
Safe travels and remember to (at least try to!) enjoy the show!
A friend of mine LOVES the game Never have I ever. For those who have never played, it’s generally a game played at a bar: The first person says “Never have I ever… taken off all my clothes and frolicked in a public fountain.” And then if anyone has actually done this, they drink. Then the next person says “Never have I ever…” Well, you get the idea. I guess the conclusion is that the more “adventurous” one is, consequently the more drunk one will get. (which makes sense… “drunk” and “adventure” can be rather synonymous.)
So, I’ve decided that, because I spend most of my time working the good city girl job, on the weekends I will do something I’ve never done, go somewhere I’ve never been, try something I’ve never tried. Big or small. Complex or simple. And most likely completely sober (much to my friend’s chagrin).
In short, I’ve decided to challenge myself to a game of “Never have I ever.”
Two weekends ago was when I first started this, I had never been to Half Moon Bay so I got in my car and drove there. First off, how great is the name? Half Moon Bay. So sensual and delectable. Second, it’s a small town– even the thought was reprieve from city stress. And even though it was a foggy, drizzly day, I decided to go anyway. I was in the mood for a peaceful journey and the impending rain would most likely keep people in the comforts of the indoors.
So, true to style, I headed outdoors.
And it was lovely. Calm. Misty. Cool. And Perfect for my first entry of Never Have I Ever…
I’m currently reading “Eat, Pray, Love” by Elizabeth Gilbert and find myself wanting to gulp it in but am doing my best to read and savor every delicious sentence. A very brave memoir of sorts– she dives into herself with a terrific amount of humor and sensitivity. As I said, delicious.
Anyway, in the book she refers to a conversation she has with a friend about how cities have a word that describes the overarching feeling of the city, of its people, etc. Rome, they discuss, is “Sex.” Thinking about it, sensing it, teasing it, having it, playing with it, etc. Sex.
So this got me thinking about a word for San Francisco. I’ve been curious about this for a couple days now and feel that the word would, naturally, change and flux at any given time. (And of course be dependent upon my perspective…but hey, I can’t speak for everyone anyway nor would I want to….). The word here is decidedly not “Sex.”
This morning, it came to me– today, like quite a few days, the city is tucked in by a thick blanket of clouds and rain is lazily drizzling from the sky it feels we’re so close to. There is a calm that settles over San Francisco when our weather is like this and so the word I feel for the city (right now at least) is “Cozy.” I want to cuddle into it, curl into it, play in the coziness as if I were a CareBear (yeah, as a child I would occupy myself for hours on an airplane searching with all my might for a CareBear). “Cozy.”
(I’d take a picture of the “Cozyness” I see out my window but I’m afraid you wouldn’t see much other than a blanket of white. But here’s someone else’s amazing pic)
