on the weekend
Thoughts on a weekend, one short month ago:
It was a week filled with learning curves, long hours at the office and earnest anticipation about the months sprawled before me at UN-Women, waiting for me to live my way into them.
By the time Friday rolled around again, I was admittedly tired -but so excited about my very first weekend in the city. I left work with no plan other than a desire to wander, taking out the list I had drafted before arriving to New York with hopes I would cross off a few destinations that evening.
I initially just walked east from the office and fell upon Time Square's endless lights and energy. Truth be told, it is not a part of New York City which resonates with me deeply with its commerciality and swirl of touristic chaos. I do think it brings to mind sweet memories - such as a midnight cheesecake after a Broadway show with my mama for my 13th birthday, and walking through the neon glow hand in hand with the boy just three summers ago. Though I don't care to spend much time there, I dare say it never fails to impress (overwhelm?) and I do not regret walking through it.
I moseyed all the way to Joe's Pizza on 14th and 3rd. The counter, famed for its delicious New York pies -and regularly frequented by celebrities, highlighted in this film -was bustling with energy and hit the spot perfectly. With pizza in hand, I found a bench in Union Square where I opted to stay awhile. The Square brimmed with music and dancers. The sounds of laughter and children's exhilaration made me think the term 'union' was quite an appropriate moniker for the square. I relished in observing and listening on my own, taking it all in.
In Montreal, this would have practically been unthinkable to me. Back home, I am used to roaming the city with friends. Here, as I am but in the early stages of community-building, I find myself on my own quite a bit. Of course, I have been unspeakably grateful to the many New Yorkers who have reached out to me already and have a long list of dear ones from home who plan to visit, too. I can't say I have experienced deep loneliness thus far. In fact, the prospect of an afternoon spent with myself has seemed like more of an opportunity than a burden - which, just a few years ago, would not have been the case. For this, I praise God. Yet, I certainly have had to ask for contentment and peace in the practice of solitude, and for comfort in the reality of solitary experiences, tables for one and the company of my own (sometimes endless) thoughts.
Though wildly open and convivial and gregarious, New York is also a city of much anonymity and independence. As I found myself on a date with my novel and Joe's tomato & basil & fresh mozza pie, I realized I was surrounded by a dozen other people in the park who, too, were eating dinners on park benches on their own -reading, people watching, sparking a conversation with another lone wanderer.
People here truly have been welcoming. A raw sense of community (and, undoubtedly, city pride!) prevails in New York. In fact, I would not overemphasize the word 'individualistic' in describing the average New Yorker. Rather, it is a city where the freedom to roam alone is celebrated, and where loneliness can be circumvented by a kind nod of acknowledgment from the stranger on the next park bench... or impromptu gatherings in public spaces around dancers and musicians. On more than one occasion, at times when loneliness could easily have been my reality, I have come to the forceful realization that I am in an urban space where there is much solidarity for the solitary. How deeply comforting this is!
Slowly, I made my way to the East Village as the sun set over the island, wrapping the city in shades or oranges and yellows at golden hour. It was beautiful and I could not help but feel as though I was walking through citrine and gold.
That night, I joined a laugh-gilled game of UNO with a group of kids at the apartment who participate in my roommate's youth ministry. I lost repeatedly which soon became an ideal target for playful teasing, and oh how they made me miss the teens from youth group back home.
In many ways, I felt as though I stood in a paradoxical reality: feeling so wholly at home in this utterly new yet familiar context, while also experiencing the tremendous ache of homesickness. I find myself holding this tension, thanking God for it. All the while, as I face the abysmal desire to go back to where I am from - I turn to Him and pray for faithfulness and gratitude for this new (and good) home I am in, and that I would praise God for the many ways it mirrors and differs from what I know.
The next day was certainly a favorite of mine. A friend of a friend reached out to me to ask if I would be interested in meeting up while she visited the city from British Colombia. We met for coffee and blueberry oatmeal at Bluestone Café on 5th avenue on the Upper Eat Side. Conversation was easy for Katie and I, sailing from faith to travel to family and on and on. I must add that we both share a bottomless love for words - and this alone is so much to cover.
We rented bikes and cycled for hours through Central Park as the sun gleamed over Manhattan. We rode past Sheep Meadow, the Boathouse (wondering what a brunch there would be like), the Reservoir... When our bikes led us to the Conservatory Pond, we paused to watch small sailboats dancing on the water's glassy surface. Nearby, a storyteller enchanted little ones with a fairytale -and we wondered it would be like to grow up here, in such a city.
We rode wherever the bikes led us, making pit stops whenever jazz was heard or an ideal bench for chatting was found. Every time I go to the Park, I feel the same unmistakable conviction: she really is the prettiest thing. There is something magical about that endless spread of green space in the middle of such a bustling city as New York -and the way it has something for all (the travelers, the locals, the runners, the picnickers, the kite-flyers, the readers...). It truly felt like all New Yorkers had the same idea that day: go to the park for a wander, and find sweet relief from the sweltering heat by sipping iced coffees or fruit popsicles and hiding in the shade of willow trees (and really, is there a more romantic tree to exist than a willow tree?). The air was thick and the sun rays were strong -but the passing breeze felt as we cycled confirmed this was an ideal way to journey through the park. Katie had commitments to attend further south, so we said our goodbyes with promises to meet again. I was so deeply grateful for a friend to share the day with. Finding oneself in awe of an experience or a place is a sweet thing in itself... but, really, to be able to share such moments of awe with another person is even sweeter. It's pure honey. And I savored it.
Also: I would make a case for keeping change in your pocket when roaming these parts. You never know when you'll run into a saxophonist playing some Louis Armstrong, or a double bass and guitar duet improvising some blues. Oh, New York, source of endless heart-sighs!
When the afternoon thunderstorm rolled in, I sauntered along the east side of the park in the drizzle. The rain became quite forceful, so I dreamed up an evening at the Guggenheim. I swiftly changed my mind when I saw its unending line (realizing quite suddenly that I was not all that creative in my idea to visit a museum on a rainy Saturday!). Instead, I made my way home, spending an evening with people who are slowly becoming familiar faces to me. Turns out, this was just what I needed.
Sunday, I made my way to a church in Tribeca which moved me with its folk worship, emphasis on liturgy, and many community initiatives. Gatherers were kind and welcoming, and it felt so beauteous to find myself amongst fellow believers. Like home, really.
I spent the afternoon in Tribeca, walking round and round its cobblestone streets and beautiful brick buildings -imagining what a life there would be like. Whilst enjoying my book over brunch at Maman (a must, especially their nutty chocolate chip cookie!), another lone visitor at the café sparked a conversation with me. We chatted and chatted and soon made plans for a future coffee date.
I prattled the whole way home with my sweet family -and later called the boy, too. I am ever so thankful for the possibility of friendship and love just a call away -knowing all too well they do not compare to the face-to-face thing, but still remaining a great comfort when the distance seems tangible, like you could reach out and clasp it. These calls, weaved into the fabric of my days, mean the world to me as I grow used to being far from those I love most.
I love these New York weekends and the endless possibilities they offer. Though I am only here for six short months, I do feel I am making a home - a life- in this city, with my very own plans and rhythms and community for this magical season. That is to say: I am gleaning memories -one by one.
Comments
I can't wait to read about your take of our sister weekend :)