It’s Sunday morning. I’ve been up for a while, finishing a knitting project, watching a movie, taking some photographs, musing… It’s sunny outside, and warm, and it is quiet.
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about quiet. There isn’t a lot of that in New York City. I miss it. Over the last several weeks, I’ve been thinking more and more about what it would mean to move away from here. From this frenetic pace that is so insidious it’s hard to recognize most of the time. There are the upsides, of course. Having my own grass to mow, a place to barbecue, space for a dog, less around to distract me. I could enjoy simpler things, like what it feels like to dice a tomato without the feeling that by doing so I am missing out on something more important. I might be able to find more time to paint my toenails or run through the grass or grow strawberries. To watch sunsets and gaze at stars.
There are also downsides to leaving city life behind me, too. Oddly, they stem from the same reasons I want to leave. There is always something new to do here. There is culture to experience. There is variety and abundance if I am willing to look for it. There are so many opportunities to see new things, go new places, and almost everything I could ever want, need, or even imagine I may want or need exists within a short distance of me, no matter where I am. There is novelty around every corner, learning opportunities, beauty, excitement… It would be hard to leave this behind, which I know I take for granted. There is not enough time to appreciate all a city like New York has to offer.
I keep wondering if the life I see on the horizon, wherever that horizon actually is, will be as I imagine it, or whether I’ll just end up longing for home? But I also think that a life without taking a chance isn’t really a life worth living, and I’ve never wanted to live my life without risk. Right now I’m daydreaming. I picture a small, run-down house we can call home. A place with a backyard and a patio for barbecuing. Space for our adopted dog to run. Two bathrooms. Three bedrooms. A driveway. Maybe even a garage. Shops down the road for browsing and maybe even selling, if things go well. Maybe if we’re really lucky, a washer and dryer we don’t have to share, and maybe even a fireplace for the winter or a pool for the summer. Someplace we can find peace and enjoy nature. Maybe grow our own tomatoes for dicing. Pizza from scratch from food we have grown ourselves.
Daydreaming. That’s what it feels like, but something keeps nudging me… maybe it’s not a daydream but a seed that I need to nurture. Who knows what the future can hold.