I Saw Stars!

I’m pretty sure that – up until now – the best part about living in New York has been the experience of leaving it.

Since moving here a little over a year ago, my logged hours of sleep have severely diminished, my activity quadrupled, and a knot of anxiety has permanently set up shop right in the pit of my chest.

Perhaps this is because I don’t own a calendar, Filofax, Blackberry, iphone…or even just a piece of paper with upcoming events scribbled on it. I know of one person (Hi, Gill) who just had a heart palpitation by the very idea of relying purely on memory. Though I can’t seem to rely on anything else to schedule my life but my own head, I think that this anxiety might be stemming from knowing I usually have someplace to be – I just have no idea where.

So, when I have a trip, or an adventure out of Manhattan – not only is it the one thing I can remember, but it also means that for that period of time, I don’t have any place to be but exactly where I am. Brain, off. Anxiety gone.

This past weekend, Chris and I attended a wedding in New Hope, PA, and the phenomenon of what happens to me the minute I settle in on the train heading out, was true to course.

The start of the ‘going out of town’ process is a little Incredible Hulk-ish – throwing clothes, frantically looking under cushions and pillows for a rouge earring that I absolutely must wear, running back from the elevator at least 4 times, having forgotten one, or all of the following:

- Phone
- Charger
- Toothbrush
- Directions
- Head

Inevitably, its then a mad dash to Grand Central, as either the trains aren’t running (damn you, Wall Street stop!), traffic sucks (damn you, Downtown construction!), I’m just late (damn you, Me!) or all of the above. Once there, I insist on stocking up on UsWeekly and coffee for the trip, while Chris stands in the one line for the one teller selling tickets.

Sidenote: why bother with all the ticket windows in Grand Central when it’s a miracle if there are 2 in operation? It like being at the DMV – but so much worse, because we are always seconds away from missing our train, and inevitably behind someone who has no idea where they’re going, or how they’re going to get there. Dare I say that I actually prefer the DMV?

Once on the train – and winded from the 100 yard dash down the platform - I begin to recognize myself again. I’m sweating from the running, I’m knocking into people with my ridiculously large suitcase, I’m spilling coffee, and probably barking at Chris, but I’m slowly starting to turn a little less green.

The knot begins to untie.

Its easy to forget how awesome it is to be ‘out’. I love the sound of sirens, horns and footsteps on the sidewalk – it’s the life I live. But what about the sound of silence? Crickets? Waves? Breeze?

This weekend, I had my bare feet in dew, I smelled freshly cut grass, I chased a firefly, and – most importantly – I saw stars. Lots and lots and lots of stars. The knot, as usual when I leave, was completely gone.

Oddly enough, standing in a field in the middle of nowhere, looking up at the stars made me feel like so much more of a tiny ant than being in New York does. I felt so small. And I guess, that’s because I am.

I was a good, hard reminder of that – and a reminder that ultimately, life takes you where you’re supposed to go. After all, it took me to Pennsylvania to realize that. And when I really think about it, even without the calendar, or the iphone, or having any clue what it is I’m “supposed to do” tomorrow, I always seem to end up right where I should be.

On the way home yesterday, we came in from New Jersey. We look the same route that I used to take on my way home from college. At that time, I would see the NYC skyline, wave to it, and I’d just keep on driving. I wasn’t supposed to be here then - and so I wasn’t.

Yesterday, as we came up on the huge City skyline, I felt like a tiny ant again - in comparison to it, and the life I live in it. But miraculously, there was no knot forming in my chest, no anxiety at all - I just couldn’t wait to get home. And in the end, that’s really the only place that we’re all supposed to be, right?