WHY ARE YOU HERE AND NOT SOMEWHERE ELSE
I came to Chicago eight years ago because of this question—this piece of art—pictured above. It was the prompt for the essay I wrote that got me into the University of Chicago.
I’ve been sort of writing this goodbye to the city in my head for a long time, maybe years. When it came time to really write it, right now, I tried desperately to find that long-ago essay so I could read what that Madison had known about being here or there. I couldn’t find it. But I know she wrote with a lot of certainty. The prompt had not included a photo of the piece, so when I stumbled upon it on campus by accident years into my time there, I had to ask myself again. And I guess I’m asking myself again now.
When I first came to Chicago, it felt unknowable. It felt too big. It felt like it would never overlap into a map of memory and comfort and familiarity. But certainly it did. It unraveled before me. One of the things I loved most about it is was how easy it was to find another perspective, literally. I still love the Deja Vu of riding the train and spotting a street corner I once stood on, waiting for a friend. That feeling can happen over and over—it’s easy for every experience you have there to feel different. And when experiences feel new, they feel special. Not everywhere makes you feel like this.
And in the prolonged goodbye I’ve taken over the past year, I’ve started to recognize how special each feeling is. When I stroll down the memory lane of being here (e.g. a folder of photos), I am quick to laugh and cry and remember. It is easy to fill my chest with one hundred different feelings and let them wash over me.
I will remember my life here in feelings. I will probably lose the when and how, and sometimes the who. But I will never forget the feeling of plunging into the lake. I will never forget the agony of circling the streets for parking. I will never forget the adrenaline of learning this city on a bicycle. I will never forget what it felt like to take the first bite of another unmatched meal. I will remember hitting bottom, and climbing back up. And I will remember feeling on top of the world on my little balcony.
I have always known how powerful my feelings are, but I think I have been slow to accept the goodness of having them all, and the importance of letting them in while they’re here. Yes, that silly video of my friends, who are now strewn across the country, will still make me laugh. But, try as I might, I won’t feel the same as the Madison who held up the camera. And when the Madison who lives in the Hudson Valley looks back at the pictures of her place on Albany Ave, she won’t really remember what it felt like to pack the boxes. So that Madison, me, better feel it now.
Every day that I get older, I bring something more into my life. And each time I make a choice like this, that takes me somewhere else, I am accepting that I am leaving more behind than the last time I made this kind of choice. First a hometown, then school, then home here—every somewhere a whole cohort of people and feelings and memory still there in my head and living their own lives out in the world. It’s hard to embrace so much impermanence!
Of course, I have already considered the lilies, and I have left. One of my favorite songs starts with the line, “Ten decisions shape your life. You’ll be aware of five, about.” It is an idea I really love. In the big scheme of things, we’ll probably make a change just about once a decade that determines us. At 26, I’m right on track, with two, shall we call them, canon events, coming to mind. Now, maybe this move will be the third. Maybe not. Only time will tell, and even then, it likes to keep its mouth shut.
I guess what I’m saying is that I am holding everything about this massive and many-pronged choice in my hands: I left the place that helped me become me; I needed to go; I loved it there; I’m excited to be somewhere else; I miss my friends; I miss my other friends; I’m happy to be alone; I’ll never get it all back; I’m getting something else; I’ve been crying a lot; I’ve been smiling a lot; it hurts to look back; it’s beautiful to look back; I’m looking back. I’m looking forward.
It’s very hard to describe all those emotions. You express it very well. It is so bittersweet-which reminds me of chocolate(!), and then I forget everything🤣🤣🤣, and only tasting the moment!!♥️
Wow….. that’s amazing. It’s spot on for what life brings and how changes feel. They should be exciting, scary, fun, sad, and a million other feelings. I hope when you look back the sweet is more than the bitter. 💜