So, tonight completes my first full two weeks in New York. What do I want to say about New York? What hasn't already been said about New York? I guess I'll just start with the facts. I left Raleigh on Saturday, October 24, 2009, with about $2k in the bank, and just enough personal belongings to fill a small bedroom. By the time I reached Richmond, Virginia, I was pushing my way through a wall of cold water and high winds. Anticipation and excitement drove the truck, but anxiety and terror drove my conscious mind.
Up until the day I started packing, I'd been feeling really relaxed, and really excited, fantasizing about what it would be like, and planning the things I wanted to accomplish here. But when the packing started, the fear took over. I think, from the moment I left Raleigh, to the moment I parked the truck in Manhattan, I was nearly completely dissociated.
I've never done anything like this before.
Well, thats not true, in a material sense. I quit a steady job in Chicago to spend three months in Europe. Thats pretty dramatic. Then, I drove around the country looking for a place to land afterward. Why I chose Raleigh is still something I am trying to understand, but first things first. This move to New York is different than those leaps, for a few reasons (not including the financial padding I had back then).
First, I wasn't moving toward something. I was moving away. I was escaping the orbit of my old life. I was leaving the old solar system behind. I was achieving a certain kind of freedom that rests on self-assertion and possibility. I was indulging myself, in a way I'd never dared indulge myself before. And it was entirely funded by years of self-denial in the past. So, the changes of 2007, while a challenge to my old self, were much different from today, because they didn't require me to live in reality. They didn't require me to make choices, to define my values consciously, to prioritize my needs according to any constraints of that reality. I could select anything arbitrarily, according to whim, and have it (within a certain limit).
Today, its different. I have to make choices that necessarily limit or restrict other possibilities. I have to consciously choose what I want very deliberately, and very practically. And every choice I'm making is a kind of assertion I am utterly not used to experiencing: it is a declaration of commitment to certain preferences and needs I am prepared to fulfill, to the exclusion of all others.
There are many reasons why that is terrifying to me, but I think I can narrow it down to two: First, what if I'm wrong? What if what I *think* I need really isn't true? Second, is the moral argument. How do I know I deserve it? In the first case, I've spent many years telling myself that I don't really need the things I was asking myself for.
All you really need is food and shelter and clothing, Greg. The rest is superfluous luxury. The rest is self-indulgence of the highest contemptibility. The rest is what everyone else does. You are not everyone else. You are different. You are better. You are stronger than the rest of them. You don't need those things because you are beyond all that. You look on what all others do and need, and you catalogue and evaluate and assess. You do not indulge. You do not dirty yourself with these things.
Over the last two years, I've worked hard to understand who that voice was, and why he was there. I know now, that he is a defense. A small boy trying desperately to fit into a hard, cold world, full of "guilty" pleasures, and family duties, and "callings" from God. A boy who learned that needs are punishable offenses. Preferences are contemptible. Desires are deadly things. To survive, he had to eschew them all.
And here I am - here in New York - nearing the end of that tunnel now, chasing preferences, pleasures, desires and needs, with a degree of aggressiveness I've never employed before. I don't think I properly respected the degree of difficulty of this task. You won't get far in this city, if you're timid or insecure. Adjusting has been a huge challenge for me. One I think I'm up to now, though.
This city is enormous. Anywhere else in the world, this city would be a whole country unto itself. Its incredibly more intimidating than Chicago, significantly more busy and dirty and cosmopolitan than London, and a world apart from my early life in the country. All big cities stretch skyward, and bulge to fill the land they rest on. But here, there is an extra dimension: both the buildings and the people press up against each other in competition for space, for attention, and for warmth.
Since my visit of major European cities in 2007, I've found myself more and more drawn to this kind of life - a life surrounded by people, filled with new experiences, and offering as much promise as can possibly be crammed into the latter half of life that I have left. I've been afraid to pursue it, though. Afraid of the struggle to survive, sure, but more so afraid of the responsibility it would place on me, for both defining, and going after what I want this half of my life to be about.
Hiding in the woods was a safe decision, because choices - and human contact - were incredibly limited. I could blame my small existence on my surroundings. I could lay my fears, my anxieties, my resentments, and my frustrations, all at the doorstep of "its not available out here". I was creating a reality for myself, that the voice was demanding: a world in which anything but shelter, food, and clothing was superfluous nonsense. Monks don't do responsibility.
Here in New York City, you can get anything you want, anywhere in the city, any time of the day or night. Everything from batteries to boats, candy apples to condominiums. I've seen more farmers markets and fresh hand-baked goods in the last two weeks here, than in the last 20 years of living in rural Illinois and Wisconsin. Its all here. If you can't achieve a goal or realize a dream in New York City, chances are, you're not going to realize it anywhere. I guess thats probably a lot of pressure to be putting on myself. But, then again, the clock is really ticking for me in a lot of different areas of my life, so I think some pressure is probably a good thing.
The first week was spent in "L" Hostel, on 118th and 7th avenue in Manhattan. Coming from the suburbs, I was expecting to be terrified of everyone and everything, after dark. In point of fact, though, I found evenings in Manhattan far less fearsome than the same time period in downtown Raleigh. Sure, there are plenty of homeless, an unhealthy amount of trash on the streets, and loads of people out milling around at times when visions of sugarplums should be dancing in all our heads, and sure, that makes those parts of the city uncomfortable at times. But I didn't feel threatened at all. In fact, for the most part, just about everyone I've approached for directions, for advice, or for recommendations, has been more than willing to help me out, and offer an opinion. I know some New Yorkers will cringe at this public pronouncement, but I've found this city to be generally one of the friendliest places I've ever lived.
During the day, in that first week, I was catching the subway to various locations to look at apartments, and in the evenings I hung out with friends, and research new potential homes. My original plan was to "swoop" in, find a place with multiple bedrooms, and rustle up roommates who would go on the lease with me. Not such a good idea, it turns out. Finding places was easy. Like I said, you can find just about anything, anytime, anywhere in this city. Apartments are certainly on that list. But where the plan broke down, was in the roommate department. Even in the friendliest place in the world, you really can't expect someone to cosign a lease with you, the day after they first meet you. I'm still not sure why I expected otherwise. I certainly wouldn't have expected that anywhere else I've lived.
After 5 straight days of pavement pounding and disappointments, I decided to find a sublet instead. It took me one day to find a sublet - and in an area that is only 20 minutes (subway + walk) from work, to boot. I tried to move in that weekend, but the exhaustion of the week had taken its toll, and I ended up dallying so long on Sunday (and then getting on the wrong bridge), that the storage place was closed before I got there.
Which reminds me, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to my friends Bill and Charlotte for their patience and their help. If not for their support and assistance, this whole adventure would have been a good deal more painful than I had already made it for myself. They are proof positive to me, both that this is one of the friendliest cities in the world, and that FDR works. We were able to negotiate with great success, what was best for me to figure out for myself, as well as getting the help I really needed, when I really needed it -- and when things got really stressful for either them or me, we were able to talk it out with RTR. In simpler terms, I don't believe any of this would have been a possibility for me, were it not for (a) the power of the ideas discussed at Freedomain Radio, and (b) the friendships I've learned to nurture in and through that community. Philosophy really does make all things possible.
My first full week of "living" in New York was spent on an air mattress (again, thanks to Bill for the help). The apartment is comfortable, and in a great location for me, but its a lot colder in here than I'm used to. Nights are typically around 58 - 60 degrees, and days are between 62 and 68. Those are INDOOR temperatures. The problem with air mattresses, is that the air in them does not absorb your body heat the way a standard mattress does. So, sleeping on the air mattress in a cold room, was like lying on a slab of marble in a drink cooler.
But those first few nights actually helped to make the days significantly more enjoyable to me. The first piping hot shower, and the morning's first hot cup of coffee - taken from a coffee shop on the walk to the subway - really got my core body temperature up in a hurry, and made the morning feel electric. I do that every morning now, to remind myself of that first morning. Its very invigorating, and I really enjoy having the comfort of that routine to look forward to every morning. It gives the day a real sense of forward momentum and purpose, for me.
The new job - the primary catalyst for this move - has been a mixed bag of curiosities, frustrations, possibilities, disappointments, and a whole range of new temptations and old yearnings. I really enjoy most of the colleagues I'm working with, and I'm especially enjoying the work environment. Its very open, very relaxed, and very goal focused.
There are some challenges, though. I don't have a clear understanding of the expectations for me, as of yet, and I'm also not sure the folks I'm working with have that either. While it has taken me a good 4 days to get my workstation completely set up for the work I've been asked to do so far, it only took them 4 hours to pull me away from filling out in-processing paperwork on the first day, to throw me into development meetings.
Still, I'm feeling really energized at the possibility of being able to do something intellectually challenging at work again. The contract work was draining me of my will to persevere, and seriously affecting my self-confidence. This job has the potential to be both a stable means to my career change plans, and a rewarding intellectual effort unto itself. For both those reasons, I am very eager to stay engaged, and the environment I'm working in is geared toward encouraging it. So, things should prove interesting on this front, over the next year or so.
The "DUMBO" district of downtown Brooklyn is gorgeous, comfortable, and friendly. That area of Brooklyn reminds me a lot of areas of London I visited in 2007. I get a great feeling being there - like anything is possible, but its ok if the only thing that does happen is that we find a good restaurant for lunch. The people on the street there, are purposeful and directed, but not to the extent that you might see in the financial district of Manhattan. No hyper-aggressive suits, or angry cab drivers. The whole area is like a movie set. I can see why they say this is one of the best places to work in New York.
Now, I am settled pretty well in my first apartment - just a sublet - and I am moving into my second full week of work. One of the things I'm particularly looking forward to, is connecting with like-minded folks here in the city, and more fully developing the friendships I've already established.
For all the benefits of living in a large city, I think the one that has attracted me the most, has been the potential for human connection. My experience, since starting this journey four years ago, has been that the more connected I have been to others, the more possibilities I have opened up for myself. Its quite true that you can be surrounded by people, and never experience that connection. In other words, the city doesn't guarantee you will find kindred spirits to share your life with. However, the life I was leading until I began this journey, was certainly guaranteeing the opposite - and the older I got, the more certain that guarantee became.
So, for me, coming to New York is a massively huge demonstration of commitment to my true self, that I genuinely want to change that. Not only because of the population density, but because New York puts me as close as I can get to (or conveniently able to access at some distance) as many of my friends as possible. In short, New York is about my relationships. To others, as well as to myself. And, as I said earlier, if I'm going to succeed at them, the best chance for that is right here and if I can't make it work here, then it was never going to happen anyway. As Stef puts it: best to hit the wall going 90MPH, so if you fail, you know for sure. New York City is just about as 90MPH as one can find anywhere in the world, when it comes to personal and professional growth....
