I had to admit to a friend recently: I feel blah.
Autumn is usually my favorite season, but this year it doesn’t feel exciting. Not much feels exciting right now. It’s hard to find the right word for how I feel; blah is as close as I can get.
When I stepped back and looked around, it made sense. For the past three+ years I’ve been tucked away in my little corner of Seattle. I haven’t traveled since before the pandemic—I’ve barely even been downtown. So many of my hobbies and habits were upended by Covid, and I’ve not seen my larger social circle much either. I got out a bit this summer—camping and a backpacking trip—but too much of life just feels same-same-same, and also stale.
In prior years, this might have felt like a call to move someplace new, or at least go on a big trip. But neither things are practical for me right now. Right now I am here, so how to make the most of that?
I decided to fall back in love with my city.
I really was quite in love with Seattle when I first arrived. And while it is true that the city has changed, it’s also true is that I stopped taking advantage of it. Some of this is due to living through a global pandemic, but it started even before that. I stopped engaging, exploring, trying new things.
There were reasons for this: a busy work schedule, a move to the edge of the city, then Covid shut everything down. But now it’s just become habit.
This happens so easily: we wear deep grooves into our lives out of habit and soon it’s hard to climb out of them.
That is what I want to do this autumn and winter: I want to climb out of my grooves.
In order to do that, I asked for help.
I asked friends on social media to share the things they love about this city—from activities to events to favorite parks, restaurants, views, and walking routes.
My friends did not disappoint—local Seattleites and visitors alike. Two of the best lists came from people who do not actually live here.
I now have such a good list of places I’ve never been (some of them ridiculously close to where I live), cafes and bakeries I have never heard of, good routes for urban hikes, and the lead on a secret beach and a secret picnic table, both of which I plan to track down. I was reminded there are museums here I’ve never been to.
Seattle is looking better already.
The unexpected part of this plan was the number of friends who volunteered to join me on city-rediscovery adventures (and a few extra I reached out to). I now have a list of things to seek out, and a list of fellow seekers. Suddenly autumn isn’t feeling quite as blah as it did before.
The adventures started this week, when I met a friend for a walk in the Arboretum—where we saw this new art installation by John Grade, and my friend introduced me to a whole section of the park I had never seen before. (I lived across the street for three years, but apparently failed to fully explore). It was fun to reconnect with someone I hadn’t seen in years, and to experience this park I thought I knew through her eyes.
I’ve mentioned this quote here before, but Marcel Proust was right: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeing new sights, but in looking with new eyes.”
Apparently one way is to borrow someone else’s eyes, to ask to share their favorites.
If your life is feeling blah, maybe try falling in love with it all over again. Grab a friend or two, ask for some help. The journey alone could be exactly what you need.
I took so many photos of the John Grade installation, Union. It’s stunning in person.
I love this and I love your writing. I am just back from visiting a dear friend who life has immobilized in a wheel chair the last few years, and yet still makes the most of small joys and small adventures to an amazing degree. The visit reminded me it really does matter that we all find attainable ways to do things that bring us joy.
What a great exploration plan, hope it brings you exactly that. I am a transplant to Tacoma, which is really one of the loveliest places I have ever lived. Should you ever wish to wander further off the beaten path, I’d be happy to curate a coffee and waterfront walk as a sister appreciator of words and small things that please the eye. (I am trying to be braver about starting these conversations at this stage in life)
Bon micro voyage!
I know exactly what you mean about that blah feeling. I’ve been struggling with it myself. It’s called languishing. Blah. Love your idea! I’m going to copy it here in Portland. I recently started teaching a class at Oregon State and it has really lifted that feeling. I guess I needed a challenge that wasn’t life threatening like a global pandemic. Thank you for the post!