Now is not then. One upside to being alive for a while is it gives one a large hard drive of experience to draw upon. Some call that wisdom, although solely having more experience does not necessarily lead to wisdom — for sure I don’t feel especially sage. The downside is that because we humans are wired for pattern recognition, we tend to assume that what we knew once has stayed the same. Going through life as a series of utterly novel experiences would be impossibly exhausting. The problem is that having experienced a certain thing, person or place once, our default is to assume that nothing has changed — something we all fall prey to and we very much need to remain alert to, otherwise we are relegated to some fossilized past world.
This week I am in NYC, a place I lived for some 25 years. Outwardly, it is familiar. The subway stops in the same places, the street grid is the same, and many of my local spots remain. However, much has changed. We are staying in what formerly was known as the Financial District, recently renamed to FiDi. The first confusion was, what is Fidi? and then, how does one pronounce it? Answer: Fi-Di, not fidi. FiDi is cool, which it very much was not the last time we checked. It is also quiet and highly residential. Really? The last time I was down here, the streets were packed with over-stimulated Wall Street types barking into phones in an endless hustle. That was then. Now the daytime streets are quiet; I mean, really quiet — no sirens, no trucks, none of the usual NYC chaos. There are also more people at night than the day — residents out walking dogs, going to the neighborhood fitness studios, shopping. Despite a total lack of trees or anything approaching green, which is admittedly a bit off-putting, the ‘hood feels safe and oddly charming.
What was is sometimes no longer. The emphasis here is on sometimes, and the need to be open to not only the possibility of change, but the absolute probability of change. Some things do tend to remain static for a while, the pyramids maybe, but everything changes; we change, our friends change, our ambitions change, and the physical world around us changes. All that experience we accumulate can be thought of as a loose garment we wear to help us navigate life, not as a strict set of immutable facts. The key is to remain open, pushing ahead with a spirit of curious investigation, regarding the new and novel with fascination rather than nostalgic reticence. Open the eyes, restrain the tongue, and smile, because fighting change or throwing a fossil-loving tantrum is not really going to make anyone happier.
Quick shout out about An Immense World, in this month’s book club. Totally mesmerized. One of the most fascinating books I have read in a long time. “Umwelt,” as taken from it, is my word of the month. Read it and you will understand why.
Onward and upward,
David
Now is not then. One upside to being alive for a while is it gives one a large hard drive of experience to draw upon. Some call that wisdom, although solely having more experience does not necessarily lead to wisdom — for sure I don’t feel especially sage. The downside is that because we humans are wired for pattern recognition, we tend to assume that what we knew once has stayed the same. Going through life as a series of utterly novel experiences would be impossibly exhausting. The problem is that having experienced a certain thing, person or place once, our default is to assume that nothing has changed — something we all fall prey to and we very much need to remain alert to, otherwise we are relegated to some fossilized past world.
This week I am in NYC, a place I lived for some 25 years. Outwardly, it is familiar. The subway stops in the same places, the street grid is the same, and many of my local spots remain. However, much has changed. We are staying in what formerly was known as the Financial District, recently renamed to FiDi. The first confusion was, what is Fidi? and then, how does one pronounce it? Answer: Fi-Di, not fidi. FiDi is cool, which it very much was not the last time we checked. It is also quiet and highly residential. Really? The last time I was down here, the streets were packed with over-stimulated Wall Street types barking into phones in an endless hustle. That was then. Now the daytime streets are quiet; I mean, really quiet — no sirens, no trucks, none of the usual NYC chaos. There are also more people at night than the day — residents out walking dogs, going to the neighborhood fitness studios, shopping. Despite a total lack of trees or anything approaching green, which is admittedly a bit off-putting, the ‘hood feels safe and oddly charming.
What was is sometimes no longer. The emphasis here is on sometimes, and the need to be open to not only the possibility of change, but the absolute probability of change. Some things do tend to remain static for a while, the pyramids maybe, but everything changes; we change, our friends change, our ambitions change, and the physical world around us changes. All that experience we accumulate can be thought of as a loose garment we wear to help us navigate life, not as a strict set of immutable facts. The key is to remain open, pushing ahead with a spirit of curious investigation, regarding the new and novel with fascination rather than nostalgic reticence. Open the eyes, restrain the tongue, and smile, because fighting change or throwing a fossil-loving tantrum is not really going to make anyone happier.
Quick shout out about An Immense World, in this month’s book club. Totally mesmerized. One of the most fascinating books I have read in a long time. “Umwelt,” as taken from it, is my word of the month. Read it and you will understand why.
Onward and upward,
David
