For those of you following along at home, I moved from LA to NYC at the top of the year. Life swiftly kicked me in the ass. I took a breather. Now we’re here. :)
Last night I had a dream so crowded with crisp, featured faces I woke up dizzy. My brain happy to break out the rolodex bloated with all the new faces, new faces, new faces of New York.
When I turn a corner or emerge from the subway, or simply look up and knowingly run the risk of stepping in dog shit, and the light breaks through the buildings and glows on the opposite facades, I fill with a hope I cannot yet describe.
On the first gorgeous day after a string of gray cold, I saw a burly man walk out into the middle of the sidewalk, tilt his face to the sun, and beam into its beam.
For weeks after our arrival, when I laid down to sleep, earplugs snug, the phantom squeals of the subway cars reverberated in my skull, lulling me to sleep.
New Yorkers are much nicer than they’re given credit for. But their patience is continually tested to an extent I’ve never experienced. In LA you get frustrated about traffic. Then you arrive and get out of your car. Here there are people everywhere and things happening all the time. There’s no getting out of it. Not to mention all the sounds.
I love people. New York is all people.
In LA, I would take what I called smile walks through the park. The sole purpose was to walk and smile at people along the way. It helped me regain my faith in the goodness of the people around me after my stalking (more on that next week) and it made me feel connected to my neighborhood, to humanity, to myself.
I tried smile walking in New York. I got two blocks. Nothing terrible or tremendous happened. I wasn’t accosted or catcalled. I just got tired. There are so many people. Most of whom aren’t smiling back, but that’s not something I’ve expected since I left the Midwest. It’s the sheer amount of people that gets to me. I don’t have the stamina. I don’t know if anyone does.
One day, after commuting nearly two hours into and out of Brooklyn to write with a friend, I was sitting on the C train home. Distracted, I scrolled on my phone.
A woman walked into my subway car and asked, “Is this the C or the Q?” as we pulled out of the station.
“I hope it’s the C,” I said. It came out gruffer than I intended, almost mean. I hadn’t meant it that way. As soon as I heard it leave my lips I regretted it. The woman said nothing, turned her back to me.
I melted, disappointed and ashamed. What had hardened in me throughout the day softened immediately. I tried to crane my neck, catch her eye. I wanted to smile. To say, “Gosh, I’m sorry it came out like that. I only meant I hope I’m not on the wrong train too. I’m new here and it wouldn’t be the first time.”
But she held firm, protecting her energy. As she should. As you have to here.
It was a small moment, but it’s stuck with me. When New Yorkers are gruff or curt or even rude, I remember how it got to me too. How this city would get to anyone on the wrong day at the wrong time when your patience is thin, your faith flimsy.
I hope that lady made it home alright. I hope one day I’ll get to smile at her on the Q.
In the meantime, I’ll keep enjoying the people peopling. I’ll smile on my walks. Tilt my face into the light. Enjoy the noise.
Quick plug!
If you haven’t been scared off by my recent soul-baring posts, you may want to check out Rachael Kesler Palm’s newsletter Radically Honest. She writes about the personal and political with heart and humanity. Her work lives up to its title. And isn’t that what we all strive to be? Radically honest with ourselves, our loved ones, and the world? Rachael’s newsletter will remind you it’s possible, if ever you forget. Go subscribe!
Thanks for your patience! I know editions have been sporadic lately. I’m not quitting. Just recalibrating. Appreciate you sticking around and reading along. <3
ily bye,
Ariana
NYC exhausts me every time I visit. Like you said, the sheer amount of people, the cacophony of life doesn’t ever seem to shut off in New York. I’m sure it’s been culture shock, not to mention how it’s infiltrated your subconscious and dream world. Enjoyed reading this glimpse into city life. And thanks for the plug ✌🏼