“When will you move? Can you really raise kids there? How long will you stay?"

 

These are the questions we’re often asked as a family of five living in New York City. It always makes me wonder — do people living in other places also get grilled about how long they will remain living in their zip code, or is it just us urban dwellers? 

 

After nearly 14 years of living in New York City, this city isn’t just a backdrop for us — it’s a full-fledged character in our story. From subway commutes to being a balloon handler in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade (my dream comes true tomorrow!), this city has shaped our lives in ways that only New York can.

 

I love our life in New York City. Emily and I are transplants, but our three daughters are native New Yorkers, all three born on 168th St and Broadway. The city has given us a triple bunk bed, a shared bathroom, subway rides, and lots of adventure. It’s a place of hustle and culture, a place that challenges us and fills us with pride.

 

We often teach kids that “setting” is simply time and location — a backdrop where stories unfold. But the truth is, setting has a way of sinking into your heart and consciousness. Even when it shifts, when you move or grow, it leaves a mark that shapes you forever.

 

As the holidays approach, nostalgia always pulls me back to my roots in LaGrange, Kentucky, a town with two defining features: charm and trains — lots of trains. In fact, thirty-two trains rumble through downtown each day, halting traffic by dividing the town essentially in half, and giving everyone a free show. 

 

As a kid, I loved the booming train horns and the clatter of the wheels. I’d play “guess the caboose color” with my sisters and listen to the horns echo from my bedroom. Even now, hearing a train horn feels like a hug from home.

 

A few summers ago, I took our girls on a “historical” hometown tour to share a slice of my childhood. They’ve been visiting since they were babies, but now they're old enough to listen to my stories (and roll their eyes a bit when I start to tell the same story, again and again.)

 

 

LaGrange hasn’t changed much since I was a kid. The courthouse steps, where I walked out at 16 with my driver’s license and at 22 with my marriage license, are still there. Downtown traditions like “Light-Up LaGrange” and the “Oldham County Day” parade remain the heartbeat of the town. The trains still rumble through, and the school board is still trying to figure out a solution to the trains passing through at the same time that school buses are trying to get students home. 

 

One summer my dad and I took the girls to walk the halls of LaGrange Elementary. It was a full-circle moment. LaGrange Elementary is where I learned to read and fell in love with writing. I told the girls the story of my grandpa’s rogue school pickup. He walked into school, saw me in the hall with my class, said “Come on Tyler,” and I followed him right out the door — no sign-out, no questions asked. He took me home early, leaving my teacher confused and scrambling, and my parents ended up giving him a well-deserved lecture (remember this was the early 90s).

 

In the gym, I showed them the rope that stretched from the floor to the gym rafters that I was never able to climb, and the stage where I performed in choir and school plays. I could almost see my parents and grandparents in the audience, their pride a constant in every milestone.

 

 

LaGrange holds more of my childhood memories than any other place, and walking those streets reminds me of the power of setting. Whether it’s New York City with its hustle and grit, or LaGrange with its small-town rhythms, our setting shapes the stories we tell and the people we become.

 

Tomorrow, I’ll make new memories tied to setting as I walk the likely rainy streets of New York City, handling the Ronald McDonald balloon in the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. And while I’m navigating cables and wind gusts, my daughters, in their childhood hometown of New York City, will experience a similar feeling of awe that I felt watching trains pass through LaGrange. As they sit in the grandstands at Columbus Circle, they’ll see large balloons soaring above the city and their daddy handling one, a moment uniquely tied to where we live.

 

Setting always leaves its mark.

 

 

Think of a place that has shaped you — a setting etched in your heart. What does it mean to you now? How has it influenced who you’ve become?

 

Write about the sights, sounds, and feelings tied to that place. How does it continue to shape your story, even if you’ve moved on?

P.S. Preorder Bonus - My book "Tidy Up Your Life" arrives on January 7th, but I know the holidays can feel like a "surthrival" season so I wanted to give you something you can use NOW: a holiday "surthrival" guide! Preorder "Tidy Up Your Life" to get this exclusive resource bundle, including a sneak peek at the “Embrace Surthrival” chapter, an article about “Holiday Surthrival strategies”, “Reflect and Reset” prompts, a “Holiday Surthrival Bingo Card”, and access to a virtual Tidy Talk event on December 12th.