Last week was a rough one that, like a horrible hangover, stuck around for days, jumping out from around corners when I thought I’d finally lost it. It was a culmination of many things piling on top of each other — work, writing, asking myself those existential questions every 24 year old asks themselves right before their 25th birthday. But mostly, I just deeply missed home.
In the five months I’ve been in New York, I’ve truly fallen in love with this city. Especially now that it is spring — Game changer! It’s like the minute the weather starts getting warm and I can wear sunglasses, I immediately forget the sleeting rain and snow piles the winter put me through. I plan to just have amnesia about it until next year when I’ll be pleasantly surprised by the amount of snow clothes I already own. The city is constantly inspiring me to be a better writer, a stronger person, a lover of art and culture, a curator of experiences, someone who isn’t afraid to step outside of their comfort zones, and at the above all else, a connoisseur of bagels. It’s a place that has a life force all its own and most days, I’m enamored with it.
And then there are other days when the city is just hard and seens like it’s going out of its way to make you feel like the tiniest human in the world. I always joke with my family that by moving to New York City I went from being in one long distance relationship to being in 47 long distance relationships which is a balancing act I have yet to master. And while NYC is definitely the place I know I need to be now, it does not make my longing for LA any less vibrant.
For instance, when you’re craving an In n Out burger, good luck to you! You’re just going to carry that craving for eternity because there is nothing here to fill it. Don’t even argue with me about Shake Shack, your comparison is embarrassing to you and your family.
But a lot of my frustration comes from missing out on the big and little moment’s that make up my loved ones’ lives. I hate that two of my best friends are graduating from college and I won’t be there to see them throw their caps into the air. Or that I can only see my grandma a few times a year. I miss being able to just drive to my parent’s house after an awful day and hide out from the world with tacos, beer, and an unparallelled support system. I miss space and hiking and not getting weird looks for asking for an ice tea and not having to carry my groceries around like a pack mule. Oh New York, you’re definitely all about experience over quality of life, I’ll tell you that much.
So I decided the best course of action was to take it to my yoga mat, hence the 25 day yoga challenge I’m currently knee deep within. I do believe bad weeks deserve their moments in the spotlight, where I sit and really feel them, have a good cry, and then wipe the slate clean. It’s one of the hardest lessons to learn, but it’s okay to not always be okay. It’s actually impossible to be 100 percent happy every single moment of the day! But what really matters is how you handle the moments after the ones that make you want to curl up in a ball and give up.
For me, yoga has been amazing at giving me the space to grow and be present. I’ve learned to get lost in the movements and yes, at times, I do imagine that I am Iron Man or Black Widow shooting my powers out into the world. When after months of trying a certain pose to no avail, there is nothing cooler than finally nailing it and thinking, I’m doing it! I can do anything! I’m a superhero! Look, LOOK AT ME! Just balancing on their arms like it’s nothing in the world even though my body doesn’t really know what to do now since I’ve never actually achieved this position before. At times, it can be hard not to get frustrated with the slowness of change, but just like the quest to find a home in New York, the best things take time. I imagine by the end of this month I’ll be able to carry a fridge above my head so I’ll keep you updated.
And until then, there are always a Cat-ptain America shirts to be worn and ice teas to be consumed. Fight on superheroes!