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The Cacophony of Car Horns and Crazy


I pressed the "publish" button yesterday thinking, "Ok, yeah, so there's my second post ... finally ... after weeks of trying to figure out what my next post would be." My next thought was, "Huh. I wonder how long it will be until I write my next post."


Turns out, less than 24 hours.


That is, unless I chicken out before pressing publish on this post, which, I'll have you know, I have done multiple times. Multiple times. Like a lot. And I have all the draft posts in my blog Drafts folder to prove it. It's like a war zone in there.


OKAY, I'm going to make you a promise, dear readers: I promise to clear out my drafts folder over the next few weeks as I'm aiming at one post a day (?!?!?!) and note at the top of the post whenever I do, proclaiming to the world that this is, "yet another draft that I didn't have the cajones to post when I first wrote it." Take that, perfectionism. Right in your little eye.


Okay, so having made that promise and before I spiral down into that oh-so-familiar self-deprecating, negative self-talk I've become so accustomed to ... (full disclosure: right after typing that, I left this window and mentally walked away for about 15 minutes ... almost chickened out again and now I'm back. I'm discovering a pattern here and a method for actually getting this to happen. And that includes real-time commentary on what's actually happening at this keyboard).


I've been thinking about New York today. I miss being there. I am so grateful to be here in the Netherlands, to be with Sofie and the kids and to have made this change in my life. I also know that the New York that I left is not the New York that I once knew. That isn't to say that it won't return to what it was -- my sense is that it will come back stronger than ever -- but it was strange and so sad to leave New York quietly, without fanfare after everything that happened while I lived there. Unpacking these feelings will take some time and I expect many more blog entries to be devoted to it.


(Got distracted again. Now I'm back) Writing like this is helping me stay very present with feelings I'm having and I'm grateful for that.


I want a real farewell ... or at least maybe a see you later. I want to find a spot in the city, get as many friends together as possible and celebrate a moment in our lives that is gone but not forgotten. I want to celebrate the city that will always have my heart for what it once was and for what it will be again. I want that moment to express my thanks, to wrap my arms around my friends and my city, to stay there until they call last round and then hours after that, to exit into the city air and into that cacophony of car horns and crazy to say a proper thank you to the city that took care of me, wore me down, propped me up, challenged me, inspired me, scared me, left me awestruck and speechless, made me weep, made me not want to sleep, gave me space and permission, exhausted me, offered me choice and that informed my maturation into the kind of human being that I want to be.


That's the beginning. That's where it starts. That's why I heart New York. For those reasons and many more.

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