Category Archives: blessings

twists in the universe

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No, this isn’t a post about my astrological sign changing (I’m a scorpio no matter what anyone says).

I was at work on a Tuesday last month when I got a phone call from a girl I grew up with. I had run into her at church a few weeks earlier and we had chatted for a bit. They moved away from the Creek when I was about 13 (I think). Anyway, she was calling me because she had tickets to go see Rain (a Beatles tribute band on Broadway) and she was supposed to go with her brother who was in town but she wasn’t going to be able to make it, making me the only other person he knows in NYC besides his sister. And we’re the same age so we were inthe same peer group growing up. She asked me if I wanted to see it with him. Amazingly (this was pre my “no plans during the week” phase), I didn’t have plans and I thought it would be fun to hear the Beatles covered by a band who has been doing it for years, so I agreed to go.

I have to admit, I was a little nervous to see him. He was Beau. It had been at least 15 years since I’d last seen him. I got to the theater and waited outside in the freezing cold for him. His sister told me what he was wearing, but she didn’t have to. He seriously looked exactly the same, just older. We had a little bit of time before the show started, so we headed to Cosi for hot chocolate. It was seriously so weird to be standing in a Cosi in Times Square with Beau.

Here’s the thing. I knew Beau during the most painful of my adolescent years. Those horrible, awkward, tween years. The parental divorce years. Middle school, acne, braces, etc. That’s a big part of why I was nervous. It’s scary seeing someone who only remembers you from, what you consider, some of the worst years of your life. But seeing him, and talking to him, and dancing to the Beatles with him was so fun and oddly therapeutic. He told me about his crazy life (he’s basically homeless and spends his time between various countries–mainly South American ones–getting whatever kind of work he can get as needed). I told him about mine. Corporate job working for The Man, paying rent, brunching with my girlfriends. We are about as opposite as two people can get. And yet, there we were. Thrown together by some weird twist in the universe. Catching up. Laughing about our crazy childhood.

It was an oddly emotional experience; as in I had a lot of emotions. And a lot of thoughts. We’re so different, there’s no way you could even begin to compare our lives. And I think that was part of it. It was one of those moments when I felt so very content with all of my life choices. Not because they were better than his, but because they were mine. And because I am right where I have chosen to be. I’m not here by default. I saw what I wanted and I went after it…and I am continuing to do that every day. And he’s in the same exact spot. And as much as I don’t want his life, he doesn’t want mine. And yet, sharing an evening together was so great.

I doubt I will ever see Beau again in my life, but I will never forget him and the things I learned about myself spending those few hours with him. I think sometimes it’s so easy to get caught up in the comparisons to which similar lives lend themselves; “I wish I lived in that apartment, had that job, was dating that boy,” etc, etc, etc. But sometimes it’s nice to be reminded that, while I have been dealt a certain set of cards, I am the one choosing how to play them…and I’m pretty happy with how the game is going so far.

before the mirror

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Last week, my friend Linda came into town and stayed with me. On Sunday, we decided to take advantage of my wonderful corporate benefits and go to a couple of museums (I get in for free…along with a guest); the Met and the Guggenheim. I had never been to the Guggenheim and, sadly, didn’t actually know what kind of art it housed, beyond what I had seen in When in Rome. Being a huge fan of late 19th/early 20th century art, it did not disappoint. I fell in love with the museum (it’s much less overwhelming than the Met).

Art is such an interesting thing. There are certain things, objective things, that we can all understand and appreciate if we study it, but then there is the subjective aspect which is what I think makes it so amazing. Whether music, theater, sculpture, film, paintings, etc, we all experience it differently.

Before the Mirror – Edouard Manet – 1876

I can’t say that Manet is one of my most favorite artists, but I do love that period in French art and I do love several of his paintings. However, this painting is a new favorite. I think, in part, because this woman could be any woman. You don’t see her face. She’s not supermodel skinny. She’s just a woman, and even without seeing her face, you can (or at least I can) tell that she’s beautiful…because it’s not about her face. It’s not about her body. It’s about being a woman. And there’s something in her pose that indicates that she knows this; her posture, her hands, the way she’s turned.

Looking at this painting, which I did for several minutes, I had a very personal experience; my own little revelation. And this is what I LOVE about art, in whatever form. And how lucky am I to live in a city where I have access (sometimes discounted or even free through my job) to so many amazing museums, productions, concerts, etc? What New York lacks in natural beauty, it makes up for in the manmade variety.

a love affair

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I have so many things to catch up on. Pictures of my new apartment and it’s chaos/cuteness. Updates about my little mini-staycation while my cousin was in town. The new job. My lovely jogs around the Jackie O. Reservoir in Central Park. The Bachelorette. Etc, etc. etc.

However, I’m too busy being in love with New York. I love this city. Seriously. Love. It.
On top of everything else I mentioned, I went to the Met tonight to see Sting in concert with the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. The concert was AMAZING and I could do a whole post on that alone (which I likely will when I slow down a little). But what I want to tell you about in this post is my mini-moment when I walked out of the Met post-concert.
I was standing in Lincoln Center, by the fountain, looking up at the beautiful buildings, enjoying the barely-there-drizzle, and just thinking to myself that this really is the most amazing city in the world. I just stood there. Like an idiot. Smiling.
And then I hopped on the M7 uptown, hopped off at 96th, and home to my lovely apartment, all the while thinking about just how lucky I am to live in such a fabulous city. If you haven’t been, you must visit. And if you get a chance to live here, you should jump on it.
Yes, I realize it isn’t for everyone…but if you’ve ever wanted to live here, you should do it. Even for a year. Feel the fear and do it anyway. (Could I get any more obnoxious?)
That’s it. I’m going to bed now because in order to live in this city, I must also work…a lot…and sleep is helpful.

decisions

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I was raised to believe in right decisions. As in, I always want to be sure that I’m making the right decision. And recently, I realized that sometimes, this can be paralyzing. Sometimes, I get so scared that I will make the wrong decision, that I fail to make any decision whatsoever.

Recently I had a minor major melt down as a result of this thinking. The past year of my life has been decision filled and I started to second guess a decision I made and felt was right. And then I started to second guess my ability to tell when a decision is right or wrong. (Yes, I do realize that I’m relatively mental…so don’t think that you know some great secret that has somehow eluded me).
I was seriously in crisis mode.
And then I had this epiphany. That as people on this earth, we are given agency or free will with which to make decisions. That’s not to say that sometimes there is a right decision for you (please know that I am not referring to the moral sense of the word right…stealing is always a bad decision), but it is to say that sometimes there isn’t a right choice.
That was the epiphany. Some of you might be thinking that I’m joking because this is so clear to you…but it wasn’t to me. But it makes perfect sense now. I realized, in reference to the huge decision I have coming about where I want to spend the first few years of my new career, that unless I get a very clear feeling that one opportunity is the right opportunity, I can make the decisions that makes the most sense for me.
This was such a liberating epiphany. It also made me realize how much I like being able to fall back on the knowledge that I know that I made the right decision…especially when the going gets tough. It’s so much easier to deal with crap when you have someone else (in my case, God) who I can hold responsible for my difficulties.
And another little remembered insight; the nature of having to make a decision is that you have to choose, which infers that you will be sacrificing one option for another. And in difficult decisions, those sacrifices can be very painful on either side.
So, the bottom line. I feel great. I get to decide what I want to do and then own that decision and the sacrifices it requires. And the crisis is over. Yay!

adoption

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My darling friend, Michelle and her husband, Aaron were just approved to be selected for adoption (basically, they are now officially on the waiting list).

You can read their profile here.

I don’t know why I get so emotional about adoption. I’m not adopted. Neither are any of my siblings, nor have any of them adopted, but for some reason I have always just had a special place in my heart for adoption.

I think part of it has something to do with how blessed I feel to have had the mom I got…and with her dying so young, I think I’m a lot more aware of how lucky I am and I want all kids to have that opportunity.

Another part of it is seeing how many children really suffer because their parent just wasn’t quite prepared to have a child, either because they can’t provide for their child (and I’m not talking extravagant, I’m talking basic needs) or because they just aren’t mature enough to handle the responsibility (which makes sense when someone is 15 or 16).

I also have a very dear friend who placed her baby for adoption a number of years ago. She has since married and has two darling little girls, but at the time she was only 15 and just wasn’t ready to be a mom and she recognized that. She is still in touch with the adoptive parents (they came to her wedding) and she knows she made the right decision, not just for her, but for her darling daughter.

I also have a cousin who was adopted. I remember just feeling so excited when I found out that my aunt and uncle had been selected to adopt their darling daughter (who I absolutely adore)!

In any case, I cry every time I watch anything to do with adoption. I cry for how completely unselfish the birth parents are to place their child with another family, entrusting them to care for and raise a child that they could have kept for themselves. I cry for the new parents who are so excited to have this little baby they have prayed for and thought about about for years.

I don’t know. I just love that adoption happens! I love that there is a solution for everyone (and I’m not presumptuous enough to think that I know what that solution is…every case is different).

On that note, if you know anyone who is considering placing a child, please have them take a look at Michelle and Aaron’s profile. They will be great parents!!!