Though I'm humbled by those who've commended my strong decision to uproot myself from my comfort zone and seek a radically different existence in unfamiliar territory, I recognize that such a change takes guts. No matter how many weeks pass, the words "I left Manhattan for this?" enter my head with alarming frequency. There is no subway here, no skyscrapers, no noisy traffic to compete with the sounds of birds, crickets and frogs (yes, frogs). There are no Starbucks, no McDonalds, no Duane Reades, no Broadway theatres, no hot dog carts, no bodegas, no food deliverymen buzzing my apartment. No air pollution. No taxis. No warm roasted nuts on the sidewalk. It is inconceivable that I could so dearly miss Central Park when I'm surrounded by thousands of acres of stunning redwood forest and the warm, welcoming curve of Humboldt Bay. And I must constantly remind myself that doors between special people and places are never closed purely due to distance.
Despite my lingering sadness over the conclusion of an amazing chapter in my life, I'm determined to forge a new path as woman, writer, student and adventurous soul. With graduate school and the dream of being published clearly in sight, I expect the solitude and serenity of the north coast to revitalize the ambition, passion and creativity that was so difficult to keep alive in the wilds of Manhattan.
Update: After nearly two years in Humboldt County, I have answered the consistent call of city life by moving to San Francisco. Here, I continue along my path as a writer, explorer and learner. More to come...