Last week I went back to New York to pack up my apartment and move a couch, vintage dresser, some kitchen appliances, and a few books across the country. The couch has made its way back to me, and I’m sitting on it now as I type this. The dresser (perhaps one of the best things I’ve ever owned), my beloved coffee pot, and the chopsticks I bought in Chinatown on New Year’s Eve, among the rest of my items, are here now, too.
Last night I was talking to my dog, as one does, and apologized for moving him around so much. He stared at me, blinked one eye, and then rolled over in dramatic fashion. I’m not sure he was listening.
It’s an interesting thing, coming back home and moving back to a place you swore you had to leave. Some tender feelings have crept up as I’ve tried to settle back into my life here. The city feels different than it did at 29. Or maybe I’m different. Or just older. Who knows. Maybe all three. But the idea that my earthly belongings, and my dog, Frank, have lived with me in both places, gives me a peculiar sort of comfort.
I’ve been finding comfort in other things too, like reading light-hearted books with uncomplicated characters and this one drink at the coffee shop down the road from my apartment. Its called “The Maple Standard” and it’s $6.75. I’ve also relished seeing my grandmother on the weekend, or on a random night after work, and going to Costco with my dad. Having coffee with my mom and playing with my niece.
I’m not sure I’ve really put together what I’ve learned from moving to New York, working a difficult job, suddenly leaving that difficult job, and having to move back home. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I’m not all that good at realizing things as they are happening, or understanding how I’m feeling. The lessons I learned will probably become more apparent on a random Thursday night after a few glasses of wine a few years from now.
But I do feel different. I find myself striving to be more patient, with myself, and with others, and more conscious of the space I take up, both physically and metaphorically. It’s a work in progress. I feel more tenderness for my parents, and for my siblings, for the place I grew up. And I feel grateful for the places I’ve been and how they have shaped me. Here’s to being shaped by life for the better, even if its painful.
Things I’ve Loved Recently that May Be Worth Sharing:
On Self-Respect by Joan Didion. A beautiful essay that she wrote in 1961 that I only just learned about in 2023. I wish I read this in my early twenties, but maybe it wouldn’t have hit the same.
A bathmat from Cold Picnic. My best friend has impeccable interior design taste and I always seem to learn about the cool brands from her. She told me about this and I purchased immediately. It’s on sale now, too.
Doja Cat’s entire album. “Agora Hills” and “Can’t Wait” for two of my favorites. Plus a few others whose titles are NSFW. “Agora Hills” is just so creative and playful. She makes music feel fun.
Cleo Sol’s album. I love how contemplative her music is. Rooscol and I talked about how it’s spiritual, even, without explicitly trying to be.
The Bear. I’m not sharing the show per say, as I know ya’ll have already seen it and I am very late to the party. I am more sharing that I binged it and just finished season 2 and now I am sad. There’s a hole where The Bear used to be. Yes, Chef.
“Logical” by Olivia Rodrigo. This is a song I wish I had when I was 17. It can be heard blasting from my apartment at pretty much any hour of the day.
The Book of Hov exhibit at the Brooklyn Public Library. So cool. A quote from the exhibit I felt particularly struck by “Hov is America. He proves that you don’t have to be what you once were. Hov escaped the culture’s stereotypical headlock so he could teach the culture to transcend its negative views.”
Things I’d Buy If I Wasn’t Practicing Self-Control:
My recent camera roll
As someone who has moved around their whole life (and has gone back home too), I really ;like "And I feel grateful for the places I’ve been and how they have shaped me." Thank you and good luck.