Slowin' Down to Country Livin'
can i reclaim slow-paced, country living?
Changing one's surroundings is a test of character. I’m doing my best not to get swept up in anxieties that belong to my family members, not me.
On a few occasions, I’ve worried that I made the wrong choice leaving NYC. Then I think of what I was doing there: sitting inside, feeling enclosed in my dark room, and like I didn’t belong (likely a common feeling for any single woman turning 40 anywhere in the world. Thanks, society). After months of not drinking, I began binge-drinking too regularly again (once or twice a week) because I lack direction and because that’s what my friends are doing. In the country, I have more breathing room. I love the fresh air and the sound of rain when it pours from the sky, not hitting buildings on the way down, just falling to the ground.
Once I have my apartment, I’ll regain the choice to be around family. Choice to grab dinner with them, or get a morning coffee. Choice to engage or not. I know I’ll find joy in hosting them for dinner, for the first time in my life. I look forward to balancing my need for solitude with active engagement.
Something that may keep me from living in my hometown too long is feeling so watched. It’s not paranoia; it’s because my mother, having lived here her whole life, knows SO many people. She’s Facebook famous, and I’m all over her Facebook, so they may know me, but I don’t know them. That happens to her too. It’s like walking around with my own Kathy Hilton or Kris Jenner. She waves to people who call out her name, even when she sometimes doesn’t recognize them. It could be something I’ll get used to, but I’ll need that feeling of utter anonymity somehow.
Here are some other differences that have struck me:
Lines: WOW, I didn’t even realize how good NYC is at lines!!! I volunteered with my mom collecting raffle tickets and taking food orders. There’s a lot of room for streamlining on the vendor side. However, most striking was that all the people in line looked absolutely dumbfounded, scared to move, like they hadn’t stood in a line before and didn’t know how to speak up for themselves. NYC knows what they want and how to get it efficiently. Country folk lack that. It feels like they want to be directed.
One event-minded: People have to drive in this area, so they go out to one thing and then they go home (in my fairly limited experiences). I’m used to going to dinner, spilling over into a bar, happening upon a pop-up art shed, or the like. There’s always been room for spontaneity. Here, it can feel like going out is about getting safely back home as quickly as possible.
Locals only: I loved being out with my mom at an old, local restaurant and bar. Her friend stopped by our high top table and talked about her ancestors. One story involved her grandfather dying in a big factory fire, and other tidbits included details on how a few well-known families came to settle here. My mom directed her attention to the bar (“It’s old jock night—the jocks always come here on Thursdays,” Mom told me), and between the two of them, it was like a red carpet commentary. “Who’s in the blue shirt? Is that—?!” “Oh, look. Now my husband’s talking to my ex-husband! They’re friendly though, it’s fine!” I was so fascinated by this woman’s openness about her life and her storytelling of her family’s past. Original, authentic stories that can only be born out of having longstanding roots in one place. You just don’t hear stuff like this in the city.
American flags: They’re everywhere. Outside of houses, hanging off telephone poles, at car dealerships, on billboards. Worst is when they’re being flown from the back of a truck. Also, trucks: Everyone has a fuckin’ truck.
Hair: Everyone in NYC has dirty hair. Turns out I’ve been walking around with grimy hair for 12 years. The water here is much better. My shampoo actually lathers into suds, and my hair stays voluminous and feels fresher for days! I wonder, too, if this extends to my skin feeling better, or if it’s my new Korean skincare routine, or far less exposure to pollution and city toxins. All of the above?
Time: Namely, the amount of time it takes from ordering a to-go food item, to walking out the door with food in hand. I’m not used to people not feeling constantly rushed. It’s like I’m watching everyone in slo-mo. I gotta remind myself, no one is wasting my time. It’s just the pace of life. There’s nothing to rush off to anyway!
Tune in next week for more insight on my country living adjustments. I’ll likely post mid-week, so I can include something about the 4th of July.