In Manhattan, all these people are uncharacteristically in close proximity to one another. At first glance the business world here seems like gibberish…a language or secret code I don’t understand. The funny thing is that for every person who understands it another two don’t. On my way home I pass luxury apartments directly across the street from the projects. Mrs. Pantsuit and Mr. Suit might get it, but the beggars on the subways, the kids loitering on the corner of my block, are as mystified as I feel. Where’s an instructional manual to navigate this universe when you need one?
It’s been a month since my move to New York City. But I find myself writing this curled up in a blanket listening to the sound of the crickets and the tick of the clock in Mount Tremper rather than to the late-night chatter of building neighbors and a blasting of Rihanna’s “We Found Love.”
Not much at home has changed since I’ve left. The leaves are exchanging the rich summer green for the tinge of golden, orange, red and brown hues. There’s a definite crispness in the air that wasn’t before.
But a transformation in my own perceptions is, like the changing season, well on its way. I’ve started down the long path from local yokel to valley visitor. The quietness, the stillness, the peacefulness here strikes me differently now.
I’m jolted by some of the finer details, like the experience of the re-opened Phoenicia diner or the fact that my parents no longer have a working washer.
I’m back in a completely different world. My mother informs me that due to no fault of his own our beloved canine has fleas. “It’s been a bad year for dogs,” she explains.
The phrase sounds more like the title of a book than it does the news of the day, but after the endlessly repeating track I’d heard in New York about jobs, money, apartments, clothes, it was like a breath of fresh air. It reminded me that I was home, that not everything revolves around the number written on your paycheck. For a millisecond my anxiety about “making it” in New York waned.
Shopping with my mom in the Hudson Valley Mall, I found myself thinking about whether I’d wear something we were looking at. Hadn’t I seen a corporate woman wearing something like it? Without meaning to, I ended up sounding like a broken record: Well, in New York they have this, in New York they have that.
Remembering my roots, though, makes me stronger when I encounter the vast variety and opportunities of unexplored city territory: the dance classes I always wanted to take, the jobs and international cultural experiences I always wanted. I find I’m not trapped here any more. I can come and go as I please.
She’s pretty awesome!