wanderlust

I have an interesting case of wanderlust. I often lust for the very city I live in. Whenever I leave New York, even for the weekend, I dream of coming back - coming home. However each year with the change of the season my mind wanders a bit west and then very east.

I wake up wondering what it would be to exchange my view of the Empire State Building and Williamsburg Bridge for an ocean view or the Eiffel tower. I imagine salt water hair, I imagine buttery croissants. California and Paris, for completely different reasons.

California for the ocean. Not the shore or the beach but the ocean. Big Sur and hiking above the clouds. The feeling of weightlessness being that high in elevation and the anxiety of having to go back down eventually. The sun on my arms, salty lips and hair. Cool nights and a fire. Driving along the coastal highway listening to whatever is on the radio because it really doesn't matter as long as the windows are down and you know the words.

Paris for the escape. Some days I miss the feeling of not knowing a city so well. Stepping off the subway platform with butterflies of a new adventure in a new part of town. Seeking out your favorite cafe, finding the best bookstore. Falling in love with a park or a certain building. Being a fish out of water and then finding your gills, finding your own heartbeat in a place you've never known or been. I'm constantly mesmerized by New York's lights but I crave new shapes and spaces. Carving out a home in a new place that feels similar but wholly different.

Sometimes when I cross the bridge on my bike and I'm heading downhill into the lower east side I take my hands off the bars and spread them wide. I stretch my arms and fingertips. I pull in the entire city and for a minute feel like it can actually fit within the width of my body. I love it here more than anywhere I've ever been. It's home but when I woke up this morning I wondered what Paris looked like in the snow and how nice it would be to take a walk along the ocean during a sunny November California morning.

tomorrow's tomorrow

I have caught myself saying over and over, tomorrow. Tomorrow I will sort through those work forms, tomorrow I will grocery shop, tomorrow I will scrub the tub, tomorrow I will not procrastinate on everything I should be doing today.

I'm a chronic list maker. I make lists because crossing the items off feels like crossing the finish line first every time. Funny enough, lists don't have the same effect anymore. I have no problem making them and then letting them sit for say, weeks. This is very unlike me. It's odd enough that I'm not feeling the pressure of getting things finished and crossed off, it's even more surprising that my nonchalant attitude towards doing much of anything isn't bothering me one bit.

Is this what meditation does to someone? Am I now feeling the effects of the yoga marathon I've been participating in since August? On my way to work this morning I had a flutter of anxiety when I remembered that I didn't revise yet a project I had discussed with my directors last week. Then I took a really deep breath and thought to myself, "Well nothing to really do until I get to work. Better off just enjoying this book." This is not a thought, not a thought in a million years I would ever have had before.

I am meeting due dates, my bills are paid on time, I keep plans with friends and family but one big thing has shifted in me - the worrying about what I cannot control has started to dissipate. I make the lists but with the knowledge that it won't all get done at once and that's fine. This new self discovery bleeds into the self hate that I had when I couldn't get everything done that I had planned for that day. I've let go of having to get it all done and the most humorous part of that is when I learn half of what I wrote down gets done organically and better when I don't stress over it. So maybe it's okay to say tomorrow sometimes, mostly because 99% of everything can actually wait and with that I leave work because I can't wait to read and go to yoga, the things that I don't want to wait until tomorrow to complete.

the trees

"I feel very uncertain."

Amanda, October 30th

I feel very uncertain about this new stage of my life. I feel supported and loved in a way that I've never experienced before and I'm so blessed for that. But it's difficult right now. Everything is changing right? The weather and all. It's like all summer we were more free and open and now we're going inside. We're going inside physically and emotionally. It feels like we've lost something maybe? Do you feel like that? Like something's missing and there's this loneliness? Yeah.

Take the trees right? In the spring they blossom and everything has buds and little leaves. Come summer they are so full and shady and beautiful and lush. They come fall they change drastically into these insane colors, right? And it's just so amazing. And then all of a sudden fall comes and they give it all away. They just let their leaves go and it's like a gift. A gift to everyone with the colors and just shedding off and down. Maybe if we think of it more like a gift we are giving away and less like a loss it won't be so difficult to deal with? So as we go inside and start to spend more time in ourselves with the change of the season think of it like the trees. Because what comes after winter? Spring. We'll all bloom again.