Transitions are exciting. “A new chapter.” “A new beginning.” New people with a few drops of the old. A restart. A cleanse of sorts. Exploration. Opportunity. A reboot. A chance to correct, improve and grow. A step forward, hopefully. It’s all a part of the plan, or not really.
Transitions are hard. Goodbyes. We pretend that goodbyes are never goodbyes, and only see-you-again’s, but that’s optimism at its best. A step away from your comfort zone is pretty uncomfortable. Good or bad, time etches a sense of settlement. Disturbing that settlement makes you lost for a little, until you slowly find your newly adapted comfort zone. Discomfort teaches you the most about yourself.
I have dreamt of New York, cheesy as it sounds. I interned here a few years ago, and it was such a tease. It’s wrong and harmful to fall for something you can’t really have. So until nothing could jinx my move here, I hedged my hope. All that’s history now. I’m all moved in, have a Saturday soccer league I play in, a whopping awesome familial support system, a Citi Bike key and a wonderfully spoilt crib. I’ve always struggled with the sense of belonging. Nobody really belongs to New York City – it’s this transitional melting cauldron, infested with corporate soul-eating, yet an ever-enthralling roller coaster of opportunity not always meant for children, and definitely not meant for folks that have a distaste for sirens and horns. I take solace in believing that I might actually belong where no one really belongs. For once, diversity makes up the majority of the population. Makes me feel all nice and giddy inside, so that’s all that matters.
San Antonio was a little soulless. But it served its purpose. My co-workers were a joy, and my learning curve unprecedented, at least in my short history. More importantly, work paved my way to my next pit stop. Plus, I finally got the chance to learn the art of driving, because being carless in San Antonio is like listening to music on mute. I eventually found an endearing group of friends that consisted of people who were nothing like me, and nothing like who I’d ever imagine getting closely acquainted with. On retrospection, it is fascinating how close I got to them, and how much I felt for them. Good people are good people – doesn’t matter where they come from, what their past is and what they do. Jack Dup always and forever.
It’s been two months in New York and I feel like I have physically settled in. I did build up this city way too much, and building anything up way too much is unhealthy. Realizing that grounds you though, which is always a good thing. There are certain things I want to conquer in this city, and certain interests I want to explore. Nothing like being in a city where nothing is impossible.
P.S. Food food food, so spoilt here for food.