Walking Cross Town. In the Big Apple.

Posted on by Live & Learn

Second train of the morning.

Arrive at Grand Central Station.

Traders, Bankers, Morning Hawks gather at the exit.

Car door slides open and the throng spills out.

I pick up the pace. Heart’s pumping. I’m passing Suits. And accelerating.

I Pass Harvard.

I Pass Yale.

I Pass MIT.

I Pass Lori’s Princeton.

I Pass Stanford.

I Pass Prep School boys from Choate, Exeter. Deerfield Academy.

I’m in front now, shoes tapping on the marble floors, Exit 500 feet ahead.

Boy from a 1 room, 3-grade public classroom in Ootischenia. Graduate of Northern Michigan University.

I step through the double doors to exit Grand Central onto Madison.

20° F wind gust roars down 47th street, eyes flood with water.

New York City! The Big Apple. You made it!

Cold bites, tears flow, and flow. And flow.

Cross walk sign turns.

I’m alone.

In front now.

Not done yet.

Not far enough ahead.

Not yet.

Photo: The city never sleeps, Atelier Olschinsky (via this isn’t happiness)

60 thoughts on “Walking Cross Town. In the Big Apple.”

  1. ‘Not done yet’ … keep it up Mr Kanigan. (I can’t wait till you get another dog and retire)

    1. Wow Roseanne. I so loved this. Thank you. ESP loved this passage.

      You have been forced to enter empty time.
      The desire that drove you has relinquished.
      There is nothing else to do now but rest
      And patiently learn to receive the self
      You have forsaken in the race of days.

  3. this, “Boy from a 1 room, 3-grade public classroom in Ootischenia. Graduate of Northern Michigan University” resonates with me. Me, a farm kid from a hometown village so small it can’t be, it’s a hamlet. A place where everyone knows your name, your family, your history.

    And no matter how far we venture, that wide-eyed wondering hometown kid lingers.

    Sometimes, in my travels, driving to a new-to-me city or flying off to meet with a new-to-me-important dignitary, I give myself a pinch and stifle a giggle (bringing curious stares) and smile broadly as I’m “living the life I’d imagined!”

    So fun!! And sometimes, in a coffee shoppe or a cafe in a ‘lil nondescript town, I’ll share the answer above with someone genuinely asking what’s behind all my delight.

    Thank you for reminding me again that it’s good to be a seeker in this big crazy world!

    -MJ

  7. Just taking this in, feeling your authentic essence, Dave. Eyes watered from the cold you describe AND the inspiration. So grateful for you and your gifts so generously shared.

  10. Perhaps a few from The Dalton School, too…we are all a Work In Progress…Humble beginnings foster growth…the mingle of NYC every day life must be something to draw in, to navigate, to celebrate and for those who commute in, take a long train home have time to sit, breath in, sigh, look out the window to the sound or if on the Hudson River Line the river, after diverting from the screens…hopefully some, exit the screens, bow their head momentarily, go back to the passing window view, appreciate the “quiet” car, looking forward to opening that front door to home…cocoon time.

  11. Gosh…what do we do with this? Words of reminiscence…and “not done yet.” I am always amazed that someone so caught up with so much can make such startling observations. With that, the observations of life, you will likely never be done. And that’s a good thing for all the rest of us. Tears flow and flow and flow…and we keep going.

  13. I suspect you’ll know when you are done… and then, maybe, can slow the pace down and breathe and enjoy the fruits of your labours.
    Gosh, I love when you write these – you are so good.
    And that photo is as dizzying as your passing through the throngs.

  14. “One night. That’s all Baylon was allowed, but it wasn’t enough. Forever would never be enough.” Donna Grant.
    Just be careful to listen to the whisper around you….. It’s enough! 🌿

  15. You’ve got nothing to prove – you’re breathing rarefied air already. That said, of course you’re not done – but these thoughts are not mutually exclusive

  16. No, not yet!
    You’re one of my role models! In more ways than you think. And I don’t have that many role models!

    Thank you for this special Walk Cross Town 🙂

  17. “Boy from a 1 room, 3-grade public classroom” which grades did they teach and then where did you go for High School? My husbands Joyful and Enthusiast Aunt went back to college (for her teaching certificate) for one summer or one year she lived in the dorms! She was in her mid 50’s. Her one year assignment, a small one room school in Rural North Dakota…this was 15 to 20 years ago!

  18. I never had to take a school bus ( except for field trips, berry picking and back and forth to summer camp)…My husband’s Aunt just really wanted to teach…she was a multi-millionaire at the time when she taught in a one room school…

  19. Dear David, I love too when you write… This is great. Feelings and thoughts and the picture you did with them, they are all great. You carry us with you… Thank you, Love, nia

  22. Wow … the things you learn on WordPress from fellow bloggers! When reading your post and the comments, I noticed in your answer to Christie that for grades 9-12 you had to take a bus into the “new” town of Castlegar. I had no idea until I read your comment and then researched it, that Castlegar was not incorporated until 1966, and although I had read on your About page that you were from Ootischenia for some reason I assumed it was on Northern Vancouver Island. Thanks for touching up my geography for me, Dave … it’s always a good day when you can learn something new!

  25. Love your sharing this Walk, the Olchinsky photo’s, Roseanne’s link to O’Donohue’s poem
    …appreciate the memory jog: spent ages 7 to 14 in a small rural town–walked or rode my bike the 5 miles to school, although born in NY City and have lived in or near it most of my life. Feel grateful for the varied places and perspectives–and being invited into yours.

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