No Place Like Home

I just returned to the Northwest after spending a week in New York City. As the old saying goes, "it's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there."

I enjoyed the skyscrapers, they were friendly in their own way, providing a sense of security. There is nothing worse then standing on earth, staring out into a broad expanse of flat land and feeling that you are a serving of soup without a bowl. The endless sidewalks of chattering people were comforting, but it was hard to escape the masses lined up at the subway or at the deli. As I jogged through Central Park I had to work to not run into people, their dogs or children.

I thought of those rare moments back in Oregon, when I approached a mountain or traveled off trail, and was truly alone. For people like me, who crave human attention, being alone can be terrifying. I am the type, who befriends the person in line at the cafe because I have to one to talk to on my cell phone.

The beauty of a landscape full of trees or mountains is that is eases the loneliness, it fills you up to the point that if someone were there you would walk away from them just to have that moment to yourself. Perhaps its selfish to want it all for yourself, but in my life I over share every moment. I tell my friends and my family every detail of my every feeling as if I am the star of my own television show. So every once in a while I escape to a rocky hillside or forest, to find a place where I can finally shut up.

In New York it is the brash and bold that survive the city, not the quiet, introspective types. So I was loud like the cars, like the vendors, like the lights on Broadway, like the crowded restaurants and bars. I indulged in my own voice, but I was surprised when I returned home. As I drove to Eugene I wanted to be quiet like the hillsides dotted with small homes. For the first time ever I found serenity on the freeway, but I still couldn't wait to get out of the car and put on my hiking boots.