My Place
I mail postcards often. Not as often as I would like, but more frequently than most people, probably. I live in a place that is a major tourist destination, so even though I'm not traveling anywhere, it is fitting to send postcards out to people.
Before I lived in New York, I used to dream about living here. I watched TV shows that were filmed here. They would open with, "From New York..." Seeing images of New York and having so many memories of it from the different periods of my younger life stirred up emotions of desire in me that probably aren't normal for a person to feel about a location.
I felt pangs of yearning for New York. I would see images of it and wonder what it would feel like to be there at the time. I could always picture myself being there, walking around, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells; being a part of traffic. I could always imagine what it was like at any given time of the year. I had been there before in all seasons, and the memories of those visits stuck with me.
Many a time while living in the Midwest, images of New York would come to me, and the desire would hit me..."I wonder what New York is like right now"...I felt a sudden urge to instantly transport there and get wrapped up in the grandeur of it all.
Those feelings of wanting would get fulfilled whenever I would visit. Hopping out of a car onto a New York sidewalk or walking upstairs from the train was a rush of unparalleled refreshment and fulfillment. The buildings tower over you, the wind in the street brushes your hair, and the people to your left, right, front, and back clamber around and past you while you just stand for a second and take it all in.
Returning home, I always felt satisfied with my visit, knowing one day I would return. But before too long, the pangs of New York would come back.
Now that I live here, I don't get the pangs any more. I am caught up in the middle of it, what life in New York has come to be. I often don't even have time to think about where I am or what I am doing. I am always doing something, and it happens to right right in the middle of where other people are doing things, too.
There are so many activities going on all the time, especially in the summertime. I used to dream about having opportunities for activities like these. I would hear stories of people happening upon things in the street or seeing events taking place that I somehow missed. Now I'm going to activities and telling people about them. It's quite surreal.
Because I'm in it all the time, I sometimes forget what it felt like before, the sense of desire that drew me here in the first place. Everyday the reason behind my decision to relocate here is reinforced. But I guess what I'm saying is that, now that I'm here, I don't envision myself anywhere else. I used to wander all around the Midwest and envision myself here. Now that I'm here, though, I don't envision myself anywhere. In a sense I've arrived.
So when I send out postcards to people, I wonder if they feel the same way I used to feel. I wonder if anybody else I know feels these pangs of desire to come to New York; the sense of purpose like they just belong here. I know people do. They must, because more and more people move here everyday. Even so, I wonder if they feel like they belong here, feel they've found their place here.
I'm still not exactly where I would like to be. I believe I'm getting closer. But I still haven't found my place yet. My place will not be defined by someone else. My place will not be in an office or behind a counter. It will not be transparent or loosely constructed, constantly needing my watchful eye to keep it up. It will not always need guidance to keep it from falling apart. It will not always need improvement or maintenance to keep from falling out of touch. No, my place will be something that I have built, something I have created, something I can stand next to, in front of, on top of, or behind with the satisfaction of knowing what I've done will keep me standing there in peace and comfort and quiet observation. That will be my place.
Before I lived in New York, I used to dream about living here. I watched TV shows that were filmed here. They would open with, "From New York..." Seeing images of New York and having so many memories of it from the different periods of my younger life stirred up emotions of desire in me that probably aren't normal for a person to feel about a location.
I felt pangs of yearning for New York. I would see images of it and wonder what it would feel like to be there at the time. I could always picture myself being there, walking around, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells; being a part of traffic. I could always imagine what it was like at any given time of the year. I had been there before in all seasons, and the memories of those visits stuck with me.
Many a time while living in the Midwest, images of New York would come to me, and the desire would hit me..."I wonder what New York is like right now"...I felt a sudden urge to instantly transport there and get wrapped up in the grandeur of it all.
Those feelings of wanting would get fulfilled whenever I would visit. Hopping out of a car onto a New York sidewalk or walking upstairs from the train was a rush of unparalleled refreshment and fulfillment. The buildings tower over you, the wind in the street brushes your hair, and the people to your left, right, front, and back clamber around and past you while you just stand for a second and take it all in.
Returning home, I always felt satisfied with my visit, knowing one day I would return. But before too long, the pangs of New York would come back.
Now that I live here, I don't get the pangs any more. I am caught up in the middle of it, what life in New York has come to be. I often don't even have time to think about where I am or what I am doing. I am always doing something, and it happens to right right in the middle of where other people are doing things, too.
There are so many activities going on all the time, especially in the summertime. I used to dream about having opportunities for activities like these. I would hear stories of people happening upon things in the street or seeing events taking place that I somehow missed. Now I'm going to activities and telling people about them. It's quite surreal.
Because I'm in it all the time, I sometimes forget what it felt like before, the sense of desire that drew me here in the first place. Everyday the reason behind my decision to relocate here is reinforced. But I guess what I'm saying is that, now that I'm here, I don't envision myself anywhere else. I used to wander all around the Midwest and envision myself here. Now that I'm here, though, I don't envision myself anywhere. In a sense I've arrived.
So when I send out postcards to people, I wonder if they feel the same way I used to feel. I wonder if anybody else I know feels these pangs of desire to come to New York; the sense of purpose like they just belong here. I know people do. They must, because more and more people move here everyday. Even so, I wonder if they feel like they belong here, feel they've found their place here.
I'm still not exactly where I would like to be. I believe I'm getting closer. But I still haven't found my place yet. My place will not be defined by someone else. My place will not be in an office or behind a counter. It will not be transparent or loosely constructed, constantly needing my watchful eye to keep it up. It will not always need guidance to keep it from falling apart. It will not always need improvement or maintenance to keep from falling out of touch. No, my place will be something that I have built, something I have created, something I can stand next to, in front of, on top of, or behind with the satisfaction of knowing what I've done will keep me standing there in peace and comfort and quiet observation. That will be my place.
posted by Leland J. Fischer at 12:00 PM
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