This past month I was blessed with the opportunity to live rent free in NYC. My own 1 bedroom in Brooklyn, obligated simply to care for 2 of my best friend’s sweet cat Birdy. This was the longest consecutive amount of time I’ve spent in the city I fantasized about all my life.
My wants going in were relatively vague – low expectations, high serenity I tell myself.
1) bread and cheese.
2) hot yoga &
3) dancing
The first goal was in the bag no doubt – walk any direction and I’ll reach this endpoint within 5 minutes. There was one spot called Vinnie’s – I knew it from past trips to NYC. At one point in my stay, I was there for a consecutive 5 days in a row. My favorite spot turned out to be Fini’s, about 7 blocks away from Vinnies. This praise comes by way of a white slice served with a side of lemon – acid to bring clarity to the rich fat.
My second goal was by way of a recommendation – Yo-BK – a wonderful studio with an unlimited pass and 2 locations. I set my schedule to mimic a personal yoga retreat; meaning in between these sessions I’d stroll between bagel shop, pizza shop, coffee shop, and parks. You’d find me reading books I picked from my friends shelf like Crying In H Mart. I learned that my sweat after a class smells like a pickle brine – different than any run or cycling sweat I’ve experience. I also built a better understanding of what I’m intending to stretch throughout that 26-2 yoga flow. Shoutout to all the teachers that use their time there – godsends of positivity.
My third goal was last minute in nature. My pal reached out just the week prior to check in on me; I haven’t talked with him much since college (years). He happened to live in NYC at this moment and was eager to share personally his top spots. He bought us tickets and brought me dancing at a space called Basement. Two stages with sound systems that pulsed through my body; therapeutic in feeling. A bathroom without stall doors. Smoke dense enough I considered it a dungeon. At one point in the night, he passed along a mantra from Ram Dass – You Wake Up At The Rate You Wake Up. I walked back to my place of rest as the sun was rising.
And yet my largest highlights were none of which I actually penned to paper. Rather these came from being open, available to the moment, a total surprise. A full send of confidence in intuition, honest communication, and whim.
A Craigslist find resulted in a fixed-gear bicycle, delivered to me within an afternoon, accompanied by the owners advice, “Stop signs mean yield, while stop lights are stop signs.” This new mode of transportation transformed my NYC experience, allowing me to navigate above ground, savoring the nuances of streets, neighborhoods, and the language of car horns. Cycling landed me into a plethora of presence-necessary stimulus—the temperature of air on my skin, vibrant lights of vehicles, intersections, bodegas I longed to explore, and the occasional revving of moped engines in the bicycle lane.
In total I put 241 miles in between Coney Island, Ardsley, and Wayne – eagerly skidding to stop, weaving around traffic, and even making connections with other cyclists. When the latter invited me to tag along on their own rides, my heart warmed. I absolutely love seeing others lead in an area with more experience; they bring their own style of risk management – likely better developed habits. There is no reason for me to follow their route than any other, simply it is a course I got to play – a love for sport.
TL;DR this month has felt nonchalant, restorative, silly, and a throwback to high school. To ride through this area was a bucket list item, one I didn’t even have on my radar to realize so soon. I’ve left the city completely infatuated with new thought processes. Attached below are some of my favorite image files secured during my time there.
As I close this thought, I’m here sitting back in my studio. It’s 6am and I’m about to brew coffee. Good Morning.
