I have a talent I’ve cultivated over the years that doesn’t exactly fit on a resumé: I’ve always been a good daydreamer. As I child I clocked many hours lying on my bed . . . thinking. At the time it was called “goofing off,” but I knew it was leading somewhere. As an adult I think I’ve brought daydreaming to the level of high art, something I’m proud to earn a living doing.
I was on the High Line the other day, taking a break from a tricky letter I was drafting for a client, and gazing out at the Hudson. I needed to figure out the tone of the letter. I started imagining that I had a country house in a town up the Hudson. I imagined that I commuted to my apartment on 23 Street by kayaking or canoeing downstream. (I looked that up . . . which way does the Hudson River flow on its way to New York? Down.) It was a great daydream, inspired by Stuart Little. Stuart’s a mouse, as you know, who is born into a human family in New York City. Stuart builds a canoe made out of birch bark. Because of Stuart Little I’ve always loved to canoe.
Pacific Beach, California
Stuart taught me a lot about independence when I was a kid and I still summon him as a reminder that anything is possible.
After that refreshing walk in the breeze and that refreshing daydream I sat down on a bench on the High Line and wrote the whole letter. My first draft was my final draft and the client liked it just the way it was.
I forgot about Stuart Little and the magic of it all . My mom read us his story aloud when we spent a magical summer in Colorado, playing in icy streams in our underwear, making leather belts and ceramic mugs with our aunt and uncle, laughing and just being. Thanks for the daydream too!