52.20... Urban Girl
I've been having an electronic conversation with one of my friends on this site about some of the differences in the kinds of places we live. He's made a conscious choice to dwell in a rural community- with all the advantages and disadvantages that offers.... and I've done the same, choosing an urban home.
There's a popular aphorism that suggests we should "bloom where we're planted", which I have always thought was a little confusing, and a bit simplistic. Does it mean that wherever you start out is where you should end up? Not very realistic in this transient society we live in. I prefer to think it means you should make the best of wherever you are at the moment, understanding that wherever that is might not be permanent. Basing your happiness on one particular house or neighborhood or community or country feels very limiting to me. It's not at all that I'm opposed to setting down roots-... quite the opposite! But life has a way of throwing you curve balls, and if you're anything like me your tastes and needs change, so being open to new places and situations seems a healthy attitude.
For the longest time I thought I hated the idea of living in the suburbs... which is pretty absurd, when I think about it, since the childhood neighborhood I loved most was a suburb of sorts. Grant you we lived in not a very fancy section of it... but we each had our own house, with a small yard, and the place had a real small-town feel to it. It abutted Bridgeport, Connecticut, which was a city, so by definition..... It was a great place to grow up.
What I hated was the suburb of Hartford, Connecticut we moved to in Junior High School. I hope the town has improved by now, but I couldn't wait to get out of there. There was a sameness to everything in the town, and much more emphasis on what you had than who you were. Few of my fellow students went on to college or careers out of town, and an extraordinary percentage of my class was married and settled in their hometown before I finished college. I'm sure I'm remembering it more simplistically than I should, but I think it's telling that have not stayed in touch with a single person- other than family- from my six years there.
Though it wasn't my first choice school (too long a story) I've been happy ever since that I ended up at the University of Connecticut. Not only did it turn out to be an excellent school, but it's rural setting is extraordinarily beautiful. Basically, there's the university... and the surrounding farms. There's a quote-unquote city nearby- Willimantic- but it's a city in name only. More like a big intersection on a rural road.
For eight years I lived in a community where- except for on campus- farm animals outnumbered the populace. And the university has a fabulous agriculture school, so my dorm room looked out over tilled fields. The movie theatre in town showed the same film for months, the main social life revolved around contra dances and potluck suppers, and noone would think of missing the volunteer fire department's annual pancake breakfast fundraiser. When I moved off campus in grad school, the farmhouse I lived in was built in 1670, and my landlady lived in the converted duck coop. I walked everywhere, learned which wild plants were edible, helped the neighbors with their harvest, and never felt safer in my life. I would have been content there forever, but for one thing. My final degree was in theatre, and it's pretty hard to make a living designing costumes for the cows.
Most of my classmates were making a beeline for New York City..., the place where theatre dreams come true. I knew I needed to live in a city, but New York- much as I love visiting there- seemed way too much for someone who'd come to love a rural pace. So when I was offered a teaching job in Boston I jumped at the chance to live in a city that was big enough to find work, but small enough to get to know. At first I missed the rural lifestyle terribly, but over time I discovered compelling things to compensate: museums, theatre, art houses for film, mass transit, friends from many countries, ethnic markets, wildly differing neighborhoods, music clubs, street performers, the biggest libraries I'd ever seen, and enough visual stimulation to keep a photographer busy forever. I've been happy in this urban life for 27 years.
Coming full circle... these days I spend my weekends and more in one of Boston's suburbs where my sweetheart lives. His kitchen is bigger than mine. He has a yard. The river's a block away. His roommates and the neighbors are diverse and friendly... and interesting The bus gets me into the city, when I want to be there, in less than half an hour. I'm content there too. Is it that this is a more interesting suburb than the place I disliked as a teenager? Is it that I've changed. Or is it just that I've learned to "bloom wherever I'm planted"? Matt talks about moving west to Arizona or Texas or one of the other places of his childhood. At one point in my life I would have dug in my heels and insisted i couldn't live anywhere but New England. Now I know it's possible to live anywhere and be happy. So I'm an urban girl... for the moment.
52.20... Urban Girl
I've been having an electronic conversation with one of my friends on this site about some of the differences in the kinds of places we live. He's made a conscious choice to dwell in a rural community- with all the advantages and disadvantages that offers.... and I've done the same, choosing an urban home.
There's a popular aphorism that suggests we should "bloom where we're planted", which I have always thought was a little confusing, and a bit simplistic. Does it mean that wherever you start out is where you should end up? Not very realistic in this transient society we live in. I prefer to think it means you should make the best of wherever you are at the moment, understanding that wherever that is might not be permanent. Basing your happiness on one particular house or neighborhood or community or country feels very limiting to me. It's not at all that I'm opposed to setting down roots-... quite the opposite! But life has a way of throwing you curve balls, and if you're anything like me your tastes and needs change, so being open to new places and situations seems a healthy attitude.
For the longest time I thought I hated the idea of living in the suburbs... which is pretty absurd, when I think about it, since the childhood neighborhood I loved most was a suburb of sorts. Grant you we lived in not a very fancy section of it... but we each had our own house, with a small yard, and the place had a real small-town feel to it. It abutted Bridgeport, Connecticut, which was a city, so by definition..... It was a great place to grow up.
What I hated was the suburb of Hartford, Connecticut we moved to in Junior High School. I hope the town has improved by now, but I couldn't wait to get out of there. There was a sameness to everything in the town, and much more emphasis on what you had than who you were. Few of my fellow students went on to college or careers out of town, and an extraordinary percentage of my class was married and settled in their hometown before I finished college. I'm sure I'm remembering it more simplistically than I should, but I think it's telling that have not stayed in touch with a single person- other than family- from my six years there.
Though it wasn't my first choice school (too long a story) I've been happy ever since that I ended up at the University of Connecticut. Not only did it turn out to be an excellent school, but it's rural setting is extraordinarily beautiful. Basically, there's the university... and the surrounding farms. There's a quote-unquote city nearby- Willimantic- but it's a city in name only. More like a big intersection on a rural road.
For eight years I lived in a community where- except for on campus- farm animals outnumbered the populace. And the university has a fabulous agriculture school, so my dorm room looked out over tilled fields. The movie theatre in town showed the same film for months, the main social life revolved around contra dances and potluck suppers, and noone would think of missing the volunteer fire department's annual pancake breakfast fundraiser. When I moved off campus in grad school, the farmhouse I lived in was built in 1670, and my landlady lived in the converted duck coop. I walked everywhere, learned which wild plants were edible, helped the neighbors with their harvest, and never felt safer in my life. I would have been content there forever, but for one thing. My final degree was in theatre, and it's pretty hard to make a living designing costumes for the cows.
Most of my classmates were making a beeline for New York City..., the place where theatre dreams come true. I knew I needed to live in a city, but New York- much as I love visiting there- seemed way too much for someone who'd come to love a rural pace. So when I was offered a teaching job in Boston I jumped at the chance to live in a city that was big enough to find work, but small enough to get to know. At first I missed the rural lifestyle terribly, but over time I discovered compelling things to compensate: museums, theatre, art houses for film, mass transit, friends from many countries, ethnic markets, wildly differing neighborhoods, music clubs, street performers, the biggest libraries I'd ever seen, and enough visual stimulation to keep a photographer busy forever. I've been happy in this urban life for 27 years.
Coming full circle... these days I spend my weekends and more in one of Boston's suburbs where my sweetheart lives. His kitchen is bigger than mine. He has a yard. The river's a block away. His roommates and the neighbors are diverse and friendly... and interesting The bus gets me into the city, when I want to be there, in less than half an hour. I'm content there too. Is it that this is a more interesting suburb than the place I disliked as a teenager? Is it that I've changed. Or is it just that I've learned to "bloom wherever I'm planted"? Matt talks about moving west to Arizona or Texas or one of the other places of his childhood. At one point in my life I would have dug in my heels and insisted i couldn't live anywhere but New England. Now I know it's possible to live anywhere and be happy. So I'm an urban girl... for the moment.