Snap snap snap. The sound of my gait on any given day is a metronome at full tilt. My older daughter knows I'm coming by the rhythm of my step. One of the first things I noticed after settling into the Summerhouse Inn at Chautauqua in New York, was that my pace had been completely altered.
Wandering down a lane past gardens, tangles of bikes, houses covered in gingerbread, and people on their porches, I realized I'd taken on the languid rhythm of a sheet on a line, blowing in the breeze- at once irregular and fluid. Even when I was headed to a specific destination, I took my time getting there and went a different way whenever I stepped out the door.
I lived a little over an hour away from Chautauqua for 12 years and somehow never found the time to go there. Now I live 11 hours away, but I knew it was time to find out what was so special about it. Over the years I've heard about it from friends and strangers. I've looked over the schedule of events many times and circled things I wanted to go see or hear.
For nine weeks every summer, a little historic lakeside community becomes the place to go to be immersed in culture. Every week there is a different theme and all day from dawn until after dark there are several things going on at all times from art clasess to lectures to theater performances to concerts to religious services to discussions to meditations and everything in between. When I found out I missed Alan Alda speaking there last year, I decided I would not let another year go by without experincing Chautauqua for myself.
Early this year I looked at my calendar and found one weekend I could make the trip. I clicked on the schedule and, lo and behold, an author I greatly admire, Karen Armstrong, was speaking that weekend. My mind was made up in that moment.
Not only did I get to hear Karen Armstrong, but I got to hear Tea Obreht too. I went to the symphony. I heard the group Straight No Chaser. I went to a sufi meditation and a Jewish service. I learned how to bake challah and I met many interesting people.
I loved the confluence of solitude and community. When I wanted to be alone, I walked into the woods or along the lakeshore or sat in the empty sanctuary of a lovely church and relished the silence, but when I wanted conversation there was always someone around with a smile and an interesting story or viewpoint.
In many ways, Chautauqua is how I picture the perfect small town. There are very few cars and lots of open minds. In the town square, there is always someone playing music. Art, literature, music, and theater are highly valued. There's always a lemonade stand somewhere. There's a bookstore and a library and lots of authors come to visit.
I'm sad that I missed out on this magical place for so long, but I'm also thankful I got to experince it by myself the first time. It was the right time for me to be able to fully appreciate all Chautauqua has to offer. I look forward to bringing my family here, but I also want to come back alone again.
In my every day life, I don't often give myself permission to wander, but I had forgotten that it is essential. When I wander, I am filled with wonder and as Socrates said, "Wonder is the beginning of wisdom."
My challenge to myself is to bring a piece of Chautauqua into my daily life. This might mean writing in a journal, or staying away from the computer for a day or two at a time, or going to a lecture, or striking up a conversation with a stranger, or slowing my pace, or meditating, or wandering down a random street for no good reason.
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