The sunlit serenity of the cloud tops melded into a murky grey during the descent into Philadelphia, and upon landing I could tell that the present light rain was not to last. The cold and rain cut almost as incisively as my doubts as I left the terminal, the romance of an impromptu adventure replaced by the cold reality of uncertainty – and cold. Despite loving the American West, I’d always liked the idea of Eastern cities: rich history, walkable streets, and perhaps critically: never having visited one, they remained just a romantic idea. Now was the time to see if reality would cooperate with my imagination.

The novelty of a new environment was tempered by the discomfort of uncertainty as I boarded the train to the city center. “Did I get on the right train? What if there is some procedure for train-riding I don’t know? Did I do the train-passenger secret handshake?” The most ridiculous of concerns passed through my mind as I let the world slide by the windows, eased only slightly by another passenger asking me if I knew where a certain stop was – at the least I didn’t look too far out of place. A little more at ease after paying the conductor for my ticket – at least I wouldn’t be thrown off of the train now – I settled back to consider my purpose here.

Too pragmatic to simply let myself have a much-needed adventure, I gave myself a pass with the justification that by attending a conference in my area of academic interest I would make connections useful in my graduate studies. On a deeper level though, I had simply reached a point where I needed a new and difference experience. The stress of finishing my undergraduate studies had taken its toll on my morale, and a subconscious need for variety and escape had pushed me to an uncharacteristic spontaneity.

“Center City Philadelphia,” the voice of the conductor woke me from my reverie. Stepping off of the train and into the night the voices nagged at me again, darkness and sleet joining in now, questioning my wisdom in coming here. Banishing them with thoughts of how pleasant it was to be able to hop on a train with remembering my stop as the only concern. I stepped down to the platform and began looking for an indication of where the subway was, I wandered through the station attempting to orient myself when suddenly the doubt, concern, looking for the subway, all of it evaporated. As I stepped through an archway the ceiling vanished into an immense abyss above. The magnificence of thirtieth street station had me in awe, I had never seen such architecture before. I half expected to see clouds gathering in the upper reaches of the room. I was struck not just by the size – I had been in plenty of large hangars – but the careful adornments of the building, the ornate and polished floor, and elaborate molding. It seemed unreal that this could be a public building – perhaps my imagination was not off so far in envisioning the “east”.

Reluctantly pulling my eyes away from the grand building, I returned to the suddenly very mundane task of finding the subway. Leaving the grand terminal for the subway station, my thoughts were once again focused on navigation by the sleet, now pouring down in immense quantities. Fortunately I quickly found my way, and after only minor confusion in navigating the ticketing rituals was seated. The now-familiar uncertainty once again confronted me, was I sure of the right stop, could I hear the annunciator well enough? In the process of checking my directions for the umpteenth time a rather obvious realization came over me: my change of location was merely a catalyst. The objective of my travel was lose myself, my troubles, and my routine – and in doing so find something fascinating, real, and important.

I had touched that realization only minutes before, basking in the experience of 30th street station, but foolishly banished it with pragmatic concerns. Now renewed and embraced, the realization was completely liberating. Suddenly I didn’t care what my stop was – I would make it to the hostel eventually – I only cared that I made the most of what I saw and experienced. Without the stress I easily found the stop and my way to the hostel (yet another new experience to add to the list for this trip). Emboldened by my recent realization, I soon set off again, though with no destination. I set off not on some path I had pre-ordained for myself, but in search of what the now snow-hushed city could teach me if I but listened.