It is amazing what can be experienced when we alter the frequency of our living. I once gave up my car for three years in Los Angeles. My friends all looked at me like I was a madman. I walked, rode my bike, and took public transportation. I talked to strangers and saw all the subtle beauties and peculiarities of places I had travelled so many times before, speeding by in my car. I looked up the names of trees and flowers I encountered on my walks and made friends with neighborhood cats. And while there were many who responded to my "hellos" with a head down grunt or no response at all, there were far more folks whose faces lit up and offered a welcoming smile or sometimes a wonderful conversation. I am all for cultivating slowness in a place that also offers the rush of the unexpected. There is so much fullness in the meeting of those two worlds.
We do have a car here in NYC. We needed it for our business, but now just have it to check in on my mom and shuttle the kids back and forth to college. It is an expense that I question now that our business is closed, but it's nice to "have around." That said, I can't imagine car culture—it's so foreign to me. To that point, I haven't driven in 20 years! I need to get back to driving, but that's another story for a different day :)
Yes, car culture is a very strange thing. When I was younger, it represented freedom, now, not so much, except for the never ending joy of a road-trip!
I used to take public transit to work during my first year living in the Bay Area. It was a long commute between a train ride and a bus ride. I also read the most during that time. Now that I have avery short commute (very grateful for that), I do miss the hustle and bustle of seeing my fellow commuters and feeling a bit closer to the rhythm of the city.
It is amazing what can be experienced when we alter the frequency of our living. I once gave up my car for three years in Los Angeles. My friends all looked at me like I was a madman. I walked, rode my bike, and took public transportation. I talked to strangers and saw all the subtle beauties and peculiarities of places I had travelled so many times before, speeding by in my car. I looked up the names of trees and flowers I encountered on my walks and made friends with neighborhood cats. And while there were many who responded to my "hellos" with a head down grunt or no response at all, there were far more folks whose faces lit up and offered a welcoming smile or sometimes a wonderful conversation. I am all for cultivating slowness in a place that also offers the rush of the unexpected. There is so much fullness in the meeting of those two worlds.
We do have a car here in NYC. We needed it for our business, but now just have it to check in on my mom and shuttle the kids back and forth to college. It is an expense that I question now that our business is closed, but it's nice to "have around." That said, I can't imagine car culture—it's so foreign to me. To that point, I haven't driven in 20 years! I need to get back to driving, but that's another story for a different day :)
Yes, car culture is a very strange thing. When I was younger, it represented freedom, now, not so much, except for the never ending joy of a road-trip!
It’s weird when you slow down you realize how rushed we are, and that it is all our own doing. Life goes on.
Totally our own doing. But it's because we feel the need to keep up, I guess!
I used to take public transit to work during my first year living in the Bay Area. It was a long commute between a train ride and a bus ride. I also read the most during that time. Now that I have avery short commute (very grateful for that), I do miss the hustle and bustle of seeing my fellow commuters and feeling a bit closer to the rhythm of the city.