I love to take long walks near my house. During these walks, I can escape the confines and structure of my daily grind. Every moment of my day is schedules with school, studying, ballet, dinner, bedtime...but for that one hour when I am on my walk, I have freedom from any schedule, and have no specific purpose or agenda to fulfill. I do not need to ready myself to talk or interact with anyone, but can just be an innocent bystander to the world around me, for this one hour.


On my most recent walk, I was in an environment that was new to me...I was in New York City. Although I usually wander in the tranquil neighborhood that I live in Rhode Island, on this walk I was in the city that never sleeps. I was therefore certain that I would not have the same mind escaping experience, as the tranquility that I was used to experiencing on my walks in Rhode Island. The serenity was replaces by honking horns and the bustle of people briskly walking by me. Where I usually crossed streets after a simple glance to either side, I now had long waits for the sign of the red hand being replaced by the white, allowing me to then pass safely. These interruptions first occupied my mind and prevented me from the mindless moments I was used to experiencing on my walks, but as the time passed, I realizes that you can actually be more alone in the middle of the bustle than when you are actually alone.


For sure, the environment of New York City was different. The trees that I was used to gently shading me from some of the sun was replaced by skyscrapers that often blocked out most of the sunlight. The soft girt and small rocks that usually cushioned my steps with soft crunches were replaced by the concrete jungle of steel and cement. The soft sound of wind rustling through the trees was replaced by the frequent honking that blended into the background so all of these senses were soon ignored by my mind. Hundreds of people surrounded me and frequent sounds were made, yet, I began to feel more alone than in the tranquility of my walks at home.


I then began to awakened when I suddenly lost track of the masses but began to look into the faces of each of the people that passes by me. I saw people that looked rich and others that looked poor, some that looked lost, and others that were incredibly focused. I then wondered what all of their stories were. This mass of so many people initially blended into one, a crowd, but now I was seeing them all as individuals. People say you can see the soul of a person by looking into their eyes, but all I saw was a sea of eyes, too many to count. To my left was a man who grunted, and therefore seemed angry. To my right, I spotted an elderly woman who appeared tired and sad. heard a child cry from their stroller and I saw a taxi drover throw his arm out of the cab and honk his horn as he yelled. As I was trying to understand each of the individuals, my quest was abruptly interrupted by the roar of a truck as it quickly passed by, splashing a fairly deep puddle of water upon my burgundy patent leather ballet slippers. This sudden awakening left me retreating back looking only at the crowed, a single mass of people, once again.


My walk in the city taught me that you can actually feel more alone amongst a crowed of people than when you are actually alone. When seeing the masses of individuals pass by, but not interacting with them or knowing their story, I was left feeling insignificant. Yet just like my walks at home, I was an innocent bystander, although now contrasted by a mass of people making me feel even more alone.