A friend once told me something that’s factually true about her, but I’ve found that I think of it often, as a metaphor, for myself.
If you don’t know New York City very well, just outside New York City is the county of Westchester, in New York state. In Westchester, there are many towns and cities, and many people live there and work there, and some people live there and commute to New York City to work, or they live in New York City and have a weekend home someplace in Westchester, or they start out in the city, then move to Westchester when they have kids and want a yard. That kind of thing.
So even someone like me, who grew up in Kansas City, comes to have a fair sense of the place.
A good friend of mine grew up in Scarsdale, in Westchester. I know she loves to drive, and idly, one day I asked her, “Do you know your way all around Westchester, or just around Scarsdale?”
She said, “I can find my way anywhere, but I always have to start from Scarsdale.”
I know the feeling. I feel like I can go far afield, as long as I start from a place that feels solid, comfortable, and familiar. Sometimes I have to return there, when I want to venture forth.
I can find my way anywhere, but I have to start from Scarsdale.