Sitting down for coffee in New York City on a rainy, cold winter morning with one of my closest and oldest friends from college this past February triggered memories of the sweetness of a city I called home for nearly 17 years.
New York saw me grow, giving me unforgettable experiences, like running for my life after getting jumped in an apartment lobby on Halloween evening to my most memorable one: seeing my son born in Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan.
Whenever I step out into the New York City streets, part of me returns to a place and time of my life that warms my heart and soul. Sharing coffee and breakfast that morning with my friend moved me in a way I had not expected.
Our friendship has always gone through phases where some years we more or less lose touch. Still, no matter the years or how long we have not seen each other, we share one of those relationships where we can always pick up wherever we left off, talking and laughing about this and that.
Seeing this old friend had the same feeling that erupts within me whenever I return to New York: a coming back home in ways that feed and lift my spirit. I could not have asked for a more fitting impromptu “Coffee with John,” than this occasion.
Sounds corny, but the saying, “home is where the heart is” holds true. We can return to “home” in the relationships we carry, and in the places and people we hold close. Cherish the moments and opportunities to visit your metaphorical home.
Only fitting that the conversation included talk of resolutions and new year’s eve traditions, like the ritual of running around the block at the strike of midnight with a suitcase to welcome more travel.
Actually, I don’t think I have ever seen anyone carry out that tradition or the one about wearing specific colored underwear to bring a particular attribute into their lives (e.i, yellow for good luck, red for love, white for inner peace, and I don’t know what else). Now, I don’t know about you but, most likely, I was wearing black as most of my underwear is of that color. Wait! Please excuse this interruption while I look at what wearing black underwear on new year’s eve means.
I am back. It means…
I am digressing. I don’t mean to talk about my underwear or yours. A more interesting topic that came to the forefront during my conversation is the self, the center of almost every New Year resolution.
Even if we disdain the thought of new year rituals, it’s probably one of the few times of the year when we are drawn to actively or indirectly engage in thinking or discussing the goals/activities we want to undertake, placing the self at the center.
The irony is that we live in a self-centered society already where the “I” is ubiquitously displayed on our social media. The paradox is that we lose ourselves. The “I” becomes a persona, playing a part on the Instagram, Facebook, YouTube, TicTak stage.
Or we get lost in the never-ending to-do. Not far, or an integral part of the must get dones, we get lost in the I am a spouse, parent, worker, artist, caregiver, professional, and whatever other roles we are fulfilling. You strip those personas/roles and we might have an identity crisis.
Who are we without any of those qualifiers? What makes us, us? What are we doing to take care of ourselves? How are we cultivating a deeper knowledge of ourselves outside the parameters of an attached identity? What motivates/inspires us? How do we become present with ourselves without getting lost in distractions that are not expansive, i.e distractions that do little to challenge us, or contribute to our well-being?
I was confronted by a version of those questions at two critical points in my life: first, when I lost my wife and, then a year later, when I became an empty nester. I had always had a separate identity, doing my yoga, running, and following other interests outside of being a husband and father. Still, faced with those new realities, I was forced to redirect my life, making those sets of questions more pronounced and immediate. Not always easy or with clarity, I have welcomed the challenges and the possibilities of getting connected and reacquainted with myself, exploring past and new interests: practicing meditation, reading more, challenging myself to hike on my own, exploring online classes, and learning more about various subjects including photography and sexuality. All those are avenues of exploration that call out to me for a variety of reasons.
I am not going to prescribe or pontificate about any specific activity to pursue. Instead, I encourage all of us to put our phones down to take two to ten minutes a day to explore different paths of self-care and exploration. A good starting point might be answering the question of what is going on with YOU outside any of our prescribed roles. Start with that question to begin formulating and solidifying an identity of what you want for yourself, be it a hobby or an attribute.
A response might be that there is no time. How many times do we say “I don’t have the luxury, energy, time, or bandwidth to meditate, read, or do x.” I don’t negate the reality of time constraints and other hurdles we all have in our lives. But the essential question/challenge is how can we take of others and that of our thousands of responsibilities when we are getting lost in the identities of others and neglecting our physical, mental, emotional needs. Find yourself.
I so appreciated this meetup. I had the opportunity to cry, get to know an awesome person, and, eventually, express myself here with these words.
Approximately six-months had passed since I had last stepped inside the YMCA before CWJ #84. I had kept postponing going for months after my yearly membership had lapsed.
Not sure what prompted me to go but it was a spontaneous decision on a lazy, Sunday afternoon. As I was renewing my membership, a woman behind me was scanning her card to get her workout. Took me a few minutes to recognize her behind the mask.
She is someone that worked at the Y before being furlough because of the COVID-19 pandemic. She worked closely with Lari (my wife) when Lari worked at the Y membership services. This person had been someone that I knew peripherally, always friendly and warm to each other but never quite close, in comparison to other people from the Y circle.
She, along with a whole army of other folks at the Y, did a lot for Lari, playing a key role in doing just a lot for my family during and after my wife’s battle with cancer.
I can’t remember the last time I had seen her. “I saw you in the Ballantyne Magazine. I never read it but I took the magazine on a recent trip and there I saw you and read about your project,” was one of the first things she mentioned as we met on that fortuitous Sunday afternoon.
A week or a few weeks later, on a windy, cold morning, we were sitting across each other sharing a cup of coffee. The conversation flowed with me getting to know about her, husband, son, and her experiences.
Unexpectedly, as we were wrapping up, we both ended up crying. At that moment, she shared with me her perspective and experience during Lari’s Life Celebration Event, held at the Y with about 150+ people in attendance. In addition to sharing memories and stories, the event culminated with a Zumba dance to honor my wife’s passion for dancing and her Zumba instructing days. My coffee mate shared with me how difficult it was for her to join in the dance. For her, the dancing seemed out of place. She was overcome with sadness and felt overwhelmed by the experience, opting to sit down and grief in her own way, which she was completely entitled to do without any reservations.
My takeaway, we all grieve and process loss differently. Culture, religion, personal beliefs all influence the process. There is no right or wrong way. Cry, dance, wallow, seek therapy, do what it takes to mourn, grief.
I have to be mindful of that because I tend to harden -up, not allowing for room to wallow in sorrow when confronted with loss. With Lari’s passing, I have become more sensitive, honoring both my emotions and that of others. Still, my threshold for identifying and carrying that loss into different aspects of my life in a negative way is low.
The cornerstone and drive behind this project is the antithesis of letting sorrow drown you down. I don’t want to reminisce or talk about the past or how unfair life is/was. I want to celebrate, dance, and soak life’s experiences while honoring the light that Lari brought into this world. I carry her in my heart and will always love her.
But I am going on a tangent, not the direction I had intended for this takeaway. The beauty is that that’s part of the process we call healing.
My other takeaway: trust the universe to bring you together with the people that you are mean to meet, not when you want/desire but when the universe feels appropriate.
Photo not from CWJ#84, but taken on that day – so, it seems appropriate.
Coffee With John 