"I never set out to live in New York City, a place I had no affection for when I moved there in 1985." Michael Ruhlman wonders: How did I get here—a 411-square-foot apartment in Greenwich Village?
I want to thank Sari Botton for creating Oldster--which pays writers, God bless her--and giving me, and so many others, a place to publish this kind of essay. Truly grateful Oldster, Memoirland, and the community it attracts.
It's true you can't know where intent may lead you. But it's important to know that you must have intent in the first place. I also live where I grew up and find that it gives me "great spiritual capital [and] cohesion" that I regularly tap into.
My pal Diamond-Michael Scott (aka The Chocolate Taoist on substack) reminds me that we need to spend our time nourishing our roots, rather than being obsessed with fruit. That feels like the answer to your question about fate. In fact, if we concentrate on nourishing the places that sustain us, and help us grow, we will find exactly the places we need to be. As David Byrne sang, "This Must Be the Place," which was our wedding song 38 years ago. He was right.
I would love to read that piece, please Peter - sounds like what I'm looking for! I've subscribed, but if you happen to recall the title of this essay, I'd be grateful.
You put into words what I've been trying to decipher about my own life since I feel I've done little "planning" per se and I love how it's worked out (so far). It's been about "intent". Thank you for writing and sharing your story. You tell/write it so well.
I love this story! I’m back to the east coast, living in NYC, after 35 years in California. So I really relate to this feeling of “How did I get here?”
We are here for cancer care for my husband. There were no other options and we are making it work but wow what an adjustment!
Thanks.,I’m jealous of you being in the West Village! Every time I go down there the 80’s version of myself reappears- like I might have to buy another beret? Smoke clove cigarettes?!
I think we all smoked cloves back in the 80s. Every now and then one of the "kids" (you know, the 20-somethings our babies all turned into) will light a clove, and the smell brings me RIGHT back to those days.
The West Village! Swoon! You are living my dream life. I take the train from Brooklyn and walk around there and imagine how wonderful it would be to live in that area. Your post confirms that my imagination is correct.
Ah. This gave me so many emotions. I, too, was a copy person at the times. I, too, lived in Greenwich village in those early days (for me it was the 90s). I recently went back for a corner bistro burger. Sigh. Your life there sounds perfect!
Oh this took my back to my NYC days! My first week in New York in the mid 90s a college friend and I went to a movie theatre on the upper west side to get out of the heat, and sitting in front of me was a man with a giant doll. They were having a conversation and both had popcorn boxes in their laps. My friend was like "Welcome to New York!" Classic!! I was not brave enough to ride the subway in the middle of the night however...
My older brother had a similar, but more violent, experience at his 5th floor walk up on 2nd avenue in the early 80s. He survived it but was a scary time. I used to come to New Jersey for work for 5 week stints so I would train in to stay with him on the weekends. He showed me the city. He’s since moved away from NYC but oh what a time we had
How did I get here? Why did I get sent to a ship off the coast of Vietnam Nam but a friend got sent to Cam Rahn Bay and died in a Viet Cong attack? We can only wonder. My question was always why am I happy here? I don’t think place or job or mate makes you content if you aren’t already content with yourself. As it appears you and Ann are.
I do have to say, though, as someone who grew up in New York (born in 1951) that in 1985, living on the Upper West Side on West 85th Street near Riverside Drive, I felt that NYC was the safest from crime it had been since I was a teenager. When I'd go out at night, I was very cautious -- but I went out to places I would have been afraid to go to at that hour in the 1960s and 1970s.
What I didn't like about the city in 1985 were Yuppies.
I want to thank Sari Botton for creating Oldster--which pays writers, God bless her--and giving me, and so many others, a place to publish this kind of essay. Truly grateful Oldster, Memoirland, and the community it attracts.
Thank YOU, Michael!!!
… And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife
And you may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"…
It's true you can't know where intent may lead you. But it's important to know that you must have intent in the first place. I also live where I grew up and find that it gives me "great spiritual capital [and] cohesion" that I regularly tap into.
My pal Diamond-Michael Scott (aka The Chocolate Taoist on substack) reminds me that we need to spend our time nourishing our roots, rather than being obsessed with fruit. That feels like the answer to your question about fate. In fact, if we concentrate on nourishing the places that sustain us, and help us grow, we will find exactly the places we need to be. As David Byrne sang, "This Must Be the Place," which was our wedding song 38 years ago. He was right.
Love it.
Here’s the essay I was talking about. Several people have asked me for it. https://open.substack.com/pub/chocolatetaoist/p/are-we-all-just-trying-to-survive?r=4g2k&utm_medium=ios
Thanks, Peter.
I would love to read that piece, please Peter - sounds like what I'm looking for! I've subscribed, but if you happen to recall the title of this essay, I'd be grateful.
Here you go: https://open.substack.com/pub/chocolatetaoist/p/are-we-all-just-trying-to-survive?r=4g2k&utm_medium=ios
Thanks so much :)
Good song. We played this at the Tuscan wedding of dear friends. “I guess I must be having fun.”
You put into words what I've been trying to decipher about my own life since I feel I've done little "planning" per se and I love how it's worked out (so far). It's been about "intent". Thank you for writing and sharing your story. You tell/write it so well.
I love this story! I’m back to the east coast, living in NYC, after 35 years in California. So I really relate to this feeling of “How did I get here?”
We are here for cancer care for my husband. There were no other options and we are making it work but wow what an adjustment!
best wishes!
Thanks.,I’m jealous of you being in the West Village! Every time I go down there the 80’s version of myself reappears- like I might have to buy another beret? Smoke clove cigarettes?!
I think we all smoked cloves back in the 80s. Every now and then one of the "kids" (you know, the 20-somethings our babies all turned into) will light a clove, and the smell brings me RIGHT back to those days.
Me too!
Haha, clove cigs, maybe, patchouli is a hard no!!
<3
The West Village! Swoon! You are living my dream life. I take the train from Brooklyn and walk around there and imagine how wonderful it would be to live in that area. Your post confirms that my imagination is correct.
Reminds me of the saying, "When we make plans, God laughs." My whole life has been about synchronicity and serendipity. I love your story. Blue
Such beautiful and poignant writing. I am a longtime fan of your work and I love this piece and the possibilities it reveals. Thank you.
Sounds like you found your happy place. Congrats!
Ah. This gave me so many emotions. I, too, was a copy person at the times. I, too, lived in Greenwich village in those early days (for me it was the 90s). I recently went back for a corner bistro burger. Sigh. Your life there sounds perfect!
I'm happy for you.
Oh this took my back to my NYC days! My first week in New York in the mid 90s a college friend and I went to a movie theatre on the upper west side to get out of the heat, and sitting in front of me was a man with a giant doll. They were having a conversation and both had popcorn boxes in their laps. My friend was like "Welcome to New York!" Classic!! I was not brave enough to ride the subway in the middle of the night however...
Great story!
My older brother had a similar, but more violent, experience at his 5th floor walk up on 2nd avenue in the early 80s. He survived it but was a scary time. I used to come to New Jersey for work for 5 week stints so I would train in to stay with him on the weekends. He showed me the city. He’s since moved away from NYC but oh what a time we had
How did I get here? Why did I get sent to a ship off the coast of Vietnam Nam but a friend got sent to Cam Rahn Bay and died in a Viet Cong attack? We can only wonder. My question was always why am I happy here? I don’t think place or job or mate makes you content if you aren’t already content with yourself. As it appears you and Ann are.
What a wonderful piece. I found it fascinating.
I do have to say, though, as someone who grew up in New York (born in 1951) that in 1985, living on the Upper West Side on West 85th Street near Riverside Drive, I felt that NYC was the safest from crime it had been since I was a teenager. When I'd go out at night, I was very cautious -- but I went out to places I would have been afraid to go to at that hour in the 1960s and 1970s.
What I didn't like about the city in 1985 were Yuppies.
Laugh! I remember Yuppies!