And just like that, it’s already August. I’m not sure where the time’s gone, but this month tastes a little different; as the hotter days and steamy nights slip like syrup across my tongue. The last hurrah of summer is always bittersweet, but this year the sunset tinged buildings seem to hold a new nostalgia.
It’s been about a year since I ‘officially’ moved to the city, and looking back it’s hard to believe how a place can cause so much to change and fall into place simultaneously. I adore the anonymity of the packed sidewalks and the palpable determination of its inhabitants, but I also have to admit that my anxiety has become notably worse here. I have a close friend who likes to joke that a lease on a New York apartment should come with a therapist- I used to think it was just a funny quip, but I’ve had to learn to catch myself when I start circling the drain of “let’s imagine everything that could possibly go wrong” and just take a breath. There’s not much allowance for true “alone time” here, and learning to cope with that has been a process that I continue to work on.
Amidst the sickly sweet summer city smell of rotting garbage and the utter madness that has become my life, I’ve found myself taking a subconscious pause and doing some much-needed reprioritization. It’s inevitable that your surroundings will shape you in some way- a razored edge to contrast with a soft hollow; and there has been this gentle restlessness shifting under the surface of my skin for awhile now. The languid urgency of summer in the city that never sleeps; a bizarre sensation of feeling caught between being at peace with my world, and wanting to burn it all down just to see what would happen.
In living here, I’ve found a tangible understanding of how people can be swallowed by New York. She has a particular way of ripping you down to your core to see what you’re made of. You thrive here, or you’re overwhelmed by the utter solitude that can only be found alone in a crowd.
The same way my pace quickens almost of its own accord as I weave through a sea of bodies flooding the subway platform, it feels like that iconic big apple grit and hustle have pushed me to accomplish more in the past year than the four I spent at university. On the flip side, the time for a quiet cup of morning coffee in my own kitchen has become a rare luxury.
In throwing myself into a life here and working in an industry where people are consumed by a relentless need to stay on-brand, I’ve learned that taking the time to acknowledge my flaws without judgement, to invite them in for a cup of tea and get to know them better is crucial. Learning to sit with myself for everything I am and everything I am not, and remove the layers of societal conditioning from how I view both of those people has helped me to understand how I stumbled into the trap of allowing life to become so overwhelmingly busy I barely have time to breathe (let alone get some sleep).
Sometimes it takes learning what you don’t want in order to figure out what you do, so I suppose it’s both a pro and a con that moving here has left no room for halfheartedness or fence-sitting. There’s always an errand to run or an event to attend, coffee-fueled nights spent working late and friends to catch up with. It’s not always easy to acknowledge when you’ve become sucked into a routine that feels safe and ticks all the right boxes, but no longer contributes to your growth. It’s even harder to break out of that with no plan B at the ready and just trust that it's an open door you’re headed for and not a window you’re about to tumble out of.
As cheesy as it is, this is something I have been telling myself a lot lately: people are powerful things and we are capable of making our lives whatever we want them to be as long as we are brave and tenacious and try really, really hard. Sometimes opportunities come into our lives because they are exactly what we need at that time. We should recognize and grab them before they pass by- but that also comes with learning to see when they begin to define the new borders of our comfort zones, and to step out into something new.
It’s not remotely how I envisioned it, but this city seems to have a knack for pushing you into yourself- no matter how uncomfortable. After some bleary, written-from-bed consideration, I’ve decided it’s a good thing. August is a month of casual serendipity, one that always seems to tip the scales of restraint- shedding inhibitions along with that last layer of clothes. Embrace it.