Beautiful: I Am a Human of New York

In just a few short weeks, I realized I’ve been telling myself a story that’s not true. I always imagined that if my ancestors had gotten off the boat in New York Harbor and kept going west, I would have never left the state of California. It’s a catchy little line and totally untrue. LA has given me some downtime, a chance to get away from it all. Getting around here and finding my bearings is proving to be more difficult for me here than it is in New York. When I first moved to New York, from the moment I set foot in that city as a 22-year-old who knew absolutely no one, I felt right at home. It clicked for me. I found the beat immediately and just joined the flow. Not so in LA.

This doesn’t mean that I’m sorry I came here. It also doesn’t mean that I regret this experiment in any way. After all, experiments are just that. We have a theory. We test it. We examine the result. A number of my dear friends have left New York for good this summer. I will miss them terribly and it prompted those old thoughts of giving up New York, again. My theory was that perhaps I had stayed too long at the dance, as Joan Didion so perfectly and beautifully stated about her move from New York to LA. Maybe it was time to grow up and move on. To test that theory, I did a house swap to try out California, a place I’ve thought of making my home for many years. The result has surprised me as much as anyone: California has wonderful aspects and I love to visit, but it’s not meant to be my home.

When these thoughts first started to rise up last week, I thought I was being too judgmental. Perhaps I needed more time, more patience, more experience with this new life. And as I sat in my meditation every morning, I realized that my gut was right, as it always is. Sometimes I ignore it, and regret it.

There are many things to commend my temporary home. The weather here is mostly cool and dry. Because I’m at the beach, it’s often cloudy and that prompts my pensive writer brain. Because it’s not as easy to get around here as it is in New York, I’m spending a lot of time on my creative work at home, exactly what I wanted to do with this time. I am staying in a beautiful condo that’s in a walkable neighborhood while a pair of lovely people are taking exceptional care of my (very small) pad in New York City. I’m getting the chance to see friends here whom I don’t see often enough. Almost all of the people I’ve met here are lovely and kind.

I’d always been of the mind that a place is just a place, that I loved New York only for the people who are there and a part of my life. But that’s not true either. New York and I have had a love affair for 15 years now. It’s been an off and on relationship. We have had our rough patches and separations. Sometimes I want to punch it right in the face because it makes me so frustrated. Eventually I can’t take it anymore, throw a fit, and run out the door saying I’m heading for greener pastures. New York stoically stands its ground, confidently and calmly, and says, “Okay. Do whatever you want. You know where to find me.”

I leave New York, and then I come back. Over and over and over again. I miss its energy and the buckets of opportunity that are flowing through the streets. I’ve had 8 different homes there over the course of 15 years. I’m sure I’ll have many more. I’m in Manhattan now and know that eventually I’ll find a home in Brooklyn either when this lease is up or perhaps a year later. I’m also certain that the love of my life is roaming the streets there and he’s wondering what the hell is taking me so long to find him. (Believe me, man, I’m wondering the same exact thing!) I know my long-term multilayered career will find its groove there.

New York, give me your noise, your dirt, and all the crazies you can muster. Let me rise to the challenge and make me a better person in the process. You’ve taught me strength, courage, and perseverance. A diamond is made shiny by pressure and scrubbing. A pearl is created through a salve to ease irritation. A butterfly is born from a cocoon through the struggle and squirming of an imperfect being with great potential that is hidden from the eye. Those lessons are not lost on me. I’m glad you stood your ground and chose to evolve on your own terms, not mine. You taught me so much about me just by being who you are. You’re not meant to be a home to everyone, but you are certainly meant to be my home. I’ll see you soon, but in the meantime I am making the most of my 5 remaining weeks in the City of Angeles.