Reflecting While Stalking
This week, I decided to follow a stranger for my walk. I took the red line down to Lake, and decided to head over to The Bean. I wanted to see if I could follow a tourist, and see what it’s like visiting this city for the first time again. As I headed towards the bean, I found a middle aged couple and decided those were going to be the people I would follow.
They stayed around the bean for a while and were taking pictures. This reminded me of the first time I visited Chicago, which was summer of 2021. I have visited many unique places, like Finland and Luxembourg, as my family and I love to travel, but did not visit Chicago until very recently. Being there and watching all the tourists visiting the city brought back memories of when I traveled with my family, and got to experience so many different countries and cultures.
Eventually, they headed down Michigan Ave. towards Buckingham Fountain, a landmark in the center of Grant Park. The couple looked in awe, probably from seeing this landmark in real life for the first time.
Seeing this couple so engaged with the city brought back many different memories, including some from my first time in Chicago. Last summer when I visited, we had planned to go to Iowa then drive to Chicago, and then head to Seattle a week after returning home. My parents met in Iowa, and used to live in both Iowa and Chicago, so they feel connected to these places in ways I do not understand, but feel like I know where they’re coming from. I feel emotionally connected to Seattle; I’ve visited Seattle more than any other city I have been to, and was in love from the moment I first stepped foot in Washington. From a young age, I had always envisioned myself living and working in the Emerald City, as well as attending school there. University of Washington has been my dream school for 6 years now, and I went through a few rough months leading up to and moving to Chicago, and am still trying to adjust to being here. I was starting to get a little overwhelmed at this point, as memories and thoughts that I did not want to think about started flooding in.
Thankfully, the couple decided to get a move on and stop staring at the fountain. They headed towards the lake, and I was so glad that they had stopped looking at landmarks. Walking along the lake and hearing the sounds of water hitting the rocks brought me a sense of peace I’ve been longing for. The walk by the lake calmed my thoughts down, and for the first time since I have been here I felt as if I was fully in the moment, not deep into my thoughts.
It has been about 40 minutes since I started following this couple, so I decided to make my way back to the red line and head back.
In “Paris, or Botanzing the Asphalt,” Rebecca Solnit quotes Walter Benjamin who writes, “But to lose oneself in a city — as one loses oneself in a forest — that calls for a quite a different schooling” (p. 255). What is the meaning of “losing oneself in the city?” Have you ever lost yourself in this sense? If so, describe your experience. What do you remember?
Losing oneself in a city means being so enraptured to where you forget about anything going on, and can fully be in the moment. I have experienced this many times before, but my favorite time was when I was in Seattle in the summer of 2021. It was around eight at night when I went to explore the city, even though I knew it by heart. I took in everything I was seeing, hearing and smelling. Being in this magnificent city again brought so much joy to where I felt truly happy. The gorgeous streets with views of Mount Rainier shining down onto me made me feel at home, a feeling I didn’t experience back in Dallas. I felt safe and at peace with every step I took, like nothing could hurt me. I made my way to Queen Anne, one of my favorite neighborhoods in Seattle. Queen Anne houses the magnificent Kerry Park, my favorite place for the best views of the city; You not only see the gorgeous city, but Mount Rainier and Elliott Bay. Being “lost” in Seattle is something I am longing for everyday, and I can’t wait until I get to experience this again. (199)
