One of my favourite parts of any trip is the “getting there” part. I am no longer in one place.
Not quite in another. It is suspended time and space.
In the whizzing and whirring of the bus barreling down an unknown highway, I listen to music courtesy of City&Colour or Simon&Garfunkel through my earbuds.
My typical thoughts (work, chores, worries, deadlines) are dialed down.
And my soul comes into focus loud and clear.
Away from the bindings of people and place, I am free.
Blessed indeed (this is a sign I shot from the comfort of my refrigerated bus hurling across the country).
This past weekend, I traveled from NYC to visit my friend Anna in Boston who was there to attend a “futures” conference.
You see, Anna has one of the coolest jobs ever. She is a futurist (no, not of the psychic variety). She works with the Government of Canada and while she can’t predict the future, she is able to forecast what will likely happen based on current trends. And given her Easterner roots, she’s not above consulting a friendly lobster for predictions when needed (think World Cup octopus)…
While I admire the talent required to do this kind of work, I know full well I am no futurist. I vividly recall when water was first bottled and sold (waaayyyyy back in the day). I laughed at the thought that anyone would ever actually pay for something they could get for free. I also once wrote an academic paper stating that advertising on that little thing called the Internet would never take off in the way experts predicted.
Clearly, a futurist I am not.
In leaving the conference experts to their important work, I toured around Boston for the very first time. One of the highlights was visiting MIT and Harvard. I love school. Yes, I am a total geek.
To me, academic life is not unlike the whirring bus moving across the country. It’s a place of complete freedom and hope. While you’re not quite at your destination, you are in motion towards it. Dreams intact.
Somehow I managed to get hopelessly lost en route and it took me more than two hours on foot just to find the bridge to Cambridge (despite the map in my possession and countless consultations with local Bostonians).
Yes, I recognize the very fact it took me over two hours just to find Harvard and MIT may indicate I should never attend said institutions.
The thing that most surprised me was the cottage-like feel of the town between MIT and Harvard…
The quaint little shops. The laundry stop. I could feel the energy. The intelligence.
And well, the plain stupid drunkenness that is inevitable in all academic institutions (no matter the heightened IQ level)…
I imagined the phone calls that happened from this pay phone on the main drag. Its age clearly holds countless lovesick calls, homesick pleas and drunk-dialed regrets all within its memory banks.
While cell phones have likely dampened the need for this pay phone, I imagine the secrets it could tell…
Speaking of secrets… I snapped a shot of this place called “paradise” across the street from MIT (thinking it was a pub) but all the windows are completely blackened, which leads me to believe it is not, in fact, a pub. Anyone who attended MIT or Harvard care to weigh in? C’mon boys… fess up…
Harvard campus was stunning. The architecture. The green lawns.
And whenever you see this many bikes in one place, well you just know that students aren’t far behind.
I particularly loved these “bike parking passes” required for Harvard campus living.
I also got to see Boston neighbourhood highlights like Commercial Avenue and Beacon Hill. Check out the sign below and you’ll get an idea of just how swank this neighbourhood truly is…
One afternoon during a massive (welcome) downpour, I managed to duck into a Boston bookstore.
As the rain pounded the streets and the buildings outside, I found a cozy corner and escaped into an amazing book. Happy place.
Thanks to Legal Seafood and the Barking Crab, Boston seafood is some of the best I’ve ever had (don’t be jealous, PEI).
Over these delish meals, Anna and I had many “futurist” discussions about our own lives.
While none of us can ever completely know what will happen next, we can look at the choices we have made to date. The values we live by. And the beliefs we hold.
In doing so, we begin to understand that our lives are, in large part, guided by these three very important pieces. In this knowing, choosing the lives we want becomes clearer…and more within reach.
And hey, it doesn’t hurt if you’re lucky enough to have a futurist for a friend…
Much love from Manhattan (via Boston),
Erica