Powers of Observation

“…there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last-” ~E.B. White, Here Is New York

“…Prague harbors more secrets of the magic, or mystical kind than any other city in Europe;” ~Peter Demetz, Prague in Black and Gold
I have no idea what this means but it seemed appropriate....: Image courtesy of Zazzle.com
On the very first morning of my freshman orientation at Gallatin, a breakfast was held at the top of Kimmel. At each place setting was an excerpt from a short book by E.B. White, describing New York as a place of three types of people. The first was residents, people who live and have lived on the Upper East Side, or in the heart of Brooklyn, for all or most of their lives. The second was commuters, those who enter the city, use it during the daylight, and travel back to the suburbs to live the rest of their lives. The third, and in this author’s esteem, the most valuable, were those on a quest, those who came to New York because they were following a goal or a passion or a road to someplace different. He claimed that they were the magic of New York, they were the people who create the aura of mystery and wonder that surrounds the city at all times.
I resolved very quickly not to let go of my questing status. However, after two years and a grueling summer of work in which I was commuting back and forth from New Jersey for financial reasons, I found myself longing for Prague in August. I wanted the thrill of Humboldt’s “marvelous world,” but even more, I wanted to reclaim the wonder that New York inspires in me upon my return.
Prague has of course been a marvelous world. However, for the first couple weeks of November I found myself bowing to the pressure of malaise, and the heaviness that permeates this country. It is only recently, as my stay here begins to draw to a close, that I have suddenly found myself feeling comfortable, at home, with habits and schedules and routine. I keep a small notebook with me most of the time, which I use, at home and here, to write about people and things I see in my daily life. I call it my subway notebook. This summer, one of the chief indicators that I was growing bored and not seeing New York in full anymore was the petering out of entries into this notebook. I filled several pages in the beginning with Prague-isms, but of late I find that I write in it less and less often. Prague is beginning to feel so much like home that I am beginning to lose sight of the sights.
This is not necessarily a bad thing. Habit, much as it limits our view of the world, is useful. It provides us a bit of respite from having to think about every little detail of life all the time. Having habits means that I have organization, structure, and comfort. It allows me to relax and assess. But I agree with DeBotton, Nietsche, and deMaistre. There is much of value in stepping back, looking around, and simply “traveling” through your daily life to reinvigorate your soul. And I will try my damnedest for these last two weeks in Prague to soak up as much as I can, to mesh my comfort and habits with a reminiscence of the sheer mervelousness of travel, so that when I re-enter my life in America, everything will shine with the experience of these past months.