It's Up To You, New York

It’s amazing to me how I can sometimes forget how much I love New York City.

I travel into the city regularly, but if I spend more than a handful of days at home in the suburbs, I get really cozy. I love being home, and I love spending time in New Jersey, but there’s something about the city that adds a light, a fire. There is a sense of boldness and freedom I feel while moving through the streets, one that I wouldn’t experience if I stayed in my comfort zone. I feel at home in the city, but it’s not my home. I’m always a visitor.

The city is always sharpening an edge, pushing up against old belief systems. It looks me right in the eye and shows me new things about myself. I am reminded of past wounds, desires that haven’t yet been met, and endless opportunities to reinvent myself. The city gives me the push, offering me a chance to focus and walk the path. There is no forgetting, or being let off the hook. There’s something really beautiful about that.

Hiding behind a veil comfort, choosing not to look when my eyes are seeing something uncomfortable, or choosing to look the other way when something isn’t working for me, that’s sort of a trap. The trap of comfort and complacency. The trap of life being just enough when it really isn’t at all.

I believe that we all need to allow ourselves the opportunity to move through spaces that haven’t yet experienced our footprints. Noticing our emotions, the ways in which we get our bearings, and finding the spots that still feel itchy and full of wires, are really the best ways to discover our hidden parts.

The city always gives me the gift of a reminder that change is always available. I see people who express themselves in different ways than I’m used to, people who live within different energy zones, who have different desires and wants, people who look like they came out of a storybook, or a magazine. They are people that I have no attachment to. I don’t know their children, the cars they drive, or if they even have cars. I don’t know where they live or what they do for a living. That lack of context could be very disarming, but it can also be very freeing.

I always feel super radiant when I’m in New York. I go home with a little more gratitude, and with the readiness to return back and allow the city to crack me open in just a little wider. New York City, I love you. You always have a giant chunk of my heart, and every time I come back, I give you a little more.

Photo by Melodee Solomon. Taken in DUMBO