One day, I was at a party in Philadelphia when a girl introduced the group to her boyfriend who was apparently “amazing” because he had been to 14 countries. A close friend of mine then quietly turned to me and said, “haven’t you been to more than that?” And I had. By the time I was 23, I had been to five continents. “Well how many countries have you been to?” I replied, “31, but who’s counting?”
The fact that I have a list of 31 countries that I’ve visited has become one of the latter things I try to share with people. There’s really nothing amazing about that number, and there’s really nothing amazing about me just because of that number. I really don’t care all that much about the places I’ve been to. What I really care about is getting to know people. In essence, I’m fascinated by what has shaped their character, what has made them who they are. I do believe that how we grew up has an immense influence on who we are and are becoming. And that always means getting to know their experiences: how they grew up, what they’ve liked, and where they’ve been. And in the friendships that are most meaningful to me, that has also been their priority as well. So in the course of getting to know each other more, I usually end up sharing about that number 31 some time down the road.
Because that number has indeed had an influence on who I am. But probably not in the way you think. Yes, I’ve been to some places that I don’t think most of the American population will ever go to. But trust me when I say this: at the end of it all, when you’ve been to so many different places, the next new place doesn’t amaze you all that much.
Instead, that number has taught me that the people I meet is always what matters most; they are what I most fondly remember and care about. They make a place, any place, amazing. I miss the river of Heidelberg in Germany. I miss the dam of Ottawa in Canada. I miss the desert of Africa. I miss the mountains of Colorado, the hills of Berkeley and the beaches of Los Angeles. In of themselves they mean absolutely nothing to me. But those places and others are most memorable to me because those memories are filled with people that I met and got to know. I would much rather dip my toes in the pool of serendipity than wade alone through oceans of extravagance into perpetuity.
As I prepare to leave the extravagance of New York City, I am reminded of the things I’ve seen during the last seven years of my life here. But I know all the more that I will only remember most fondly the people I’ve met… the laughter we’ve shared, the shoulders we’ve lent and the mundane we’ve enjoyed because we were together.
I will miss you New York.