I have been taking walks in the City again. I just seem to be finding myself doing it. Such as, I get done having a drink with a friend, and instead of heading to the subway and going home, I just decide to walk to the next stop. Or walk around the stop and see the neighborhood. Sunday I walked down Columbus Ave, down in the 80’s, just to look at the place.
I have gotten into a rut in this City. I only exist in the neighborhood I live in, the one I work in, and that’s about it. With this large city around me, I only see Harlem and the Financial District. It’s a forty-minute subway ride between them in the morning, and it is like living in two different worlds.
From the bottom of the island, I walked up Broadway, which at that point is heading up hill. I passed all the tourists at the Charging Bull, and made my way to City Hall. Technically, I think I entered into the boarder of Tribeca, and then, the boarder of Chinatown. SOHO popped up, and then I had to call it as I entered into the Village. I think I walked for little over an hour. I watched the people on the streets ebb and flow. I thought about how Broadway used to be a path the Lenape used. I tried not to think about all of the craziness that is going on in the world right now.
I tried to clear my head, and look at the people who all live here. That we try to exist in the same place, to make it work here. Millions of people have walked the same route I did, in times that were way more dangerous than now. I want to believe that we are moving the ball forward, making things better. I wonder if there is a place for me, still. It is the question that seems to have been dogging me since I was eight years old. Do I belong? Am I supposed to be here?
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