Tag: New York City

Fame

Yesterday, my son and I met a famous man in a little, off the beaten path, Indian restaurant in New York City. I recognized the star right away as he was already seated with some adult family members. And so the awkwardness began. We were only a few feet away from one another and I started whispering to my son who this famous person is, while my son was whispering back, asking me to leave the poor man alone. This man knew that we knew who he is, so he smiled our way and I said, “I’m a fan of your work.” He said, “Thank you so much,” and then we all turned back to our own conversations. But it was uncomfortable. My son and I were distracted (I hardly ate), and we could easily hear each other’s conversations. I know where this star is going for Christmas this year. Before the star and his family members left, the famous man used the restroom, and I asked the man who appeared to be his brother, about how the star felt about having his picture taken with fans, and his brother immediately said (and seemed to be sincere) that the actor is happy to take pictures with fans. And it was true. The star was so gracious.

And I imagine that the actor was probably also completely and utterly annoyed with the situation, although I have read that the fame thing can be a two-edged sword for actors who are used to being recognized and then all of the sudden, aren’t recognized. I read a story once about Farrah Fawcett and Ryan O’Neal sitting on a beach, seeing the paparazzi coming their way. They started rolling their eyes and complaining to one another, only to have the paparazzi rush right past them towards another younger, bigger star at the time, further down the beach. Their moods shifted from annoyance to disappointment and outrage.

This dinner experience prompted a conversation with my son and I about whether either of us would ever want to be famous and the answer for both of us was “no.” We both value whatever privacy we have left in today’s modern world. It would be exhausting constantly having to be on your toes, worrying about your every move and people’s perceptions of said moves. Of course, it’s lovely to be appreciated for your work, but most famous people can’t separate the work, from themselves. They are their own product. They, themselves are their work. We all need breaks from our work. How do you take a break from yourself?

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

Soul Sunday

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.

picture credit: Big G, Twitter

Even still today, there never seems to be adequate words for this day. There is this beautiful poem though, written in 2001, by a New York journalist named Kevin Powell. This poem is called “September 11th: A Poem,” I think that this poem is fittingly beautiful for a poetry day, here on the blog .

Might it be, as my mother said to me on this ugly, sinful day,

That the world is on its last go-round?

Hijacked wild birds strip the sky of its innocent morning breath

Steel towers crumple like playing cards on an uneven metal table

Unrehearsed screams we dare not hear leap from windows

Into the open, bottomless palms of God

I cannot stand to watch life reduce

Itself to powdery dust and soot lathering the devil’s inflamed mouth

But I am fixated on the television anyhow:

Is this what slavery was like?

Is this what the holocaust was like?

Is this what famine is like?

Is this what war is like?

Is this how you felt, dear mother, when King and the two Kennedys were killed?

I want to stitch up the sky, deny humans the right to fly

Cry until my tears have washed hatred

From the mildewed underarms of history

And I want to say to the firemen

Ah, yes, the firemen:

Your husband, your father, your brother, your uncle, your friend

Thank you for speeding to the end of

Your time and thank you for showing us that

Courage is a soul so unselfish it would

Scale a collapsing building to liberate a stranger

Even as your blood relatives wonder if you are alive — 

From the remains of this madness

I detect a heartbeat called life

From the remains of this madness

I smell an aroma called love

From the remains of this madness

I embrace a body called humanity

From the remains of this madness

I construct a dream called hope

From the remains of this madness

I will ride the wings of the deceased

Into the clouds, scribble their names on the sun

Erect a memorial to the moon, chant the blues

For New York City, then resurrect a world

Where a new-born rose will jut through the broken concrete.

Shaken Up

There was a recent little on-line spat between a writer who wrote a depressing piece for Linked In, making an argument that New York City will never be the same again, due to this pandemic, and Jerry Seinfeld, the comedian, who rebutted this article, with his own opinion piece for The New York Times. Jerry was very sharp and angry and defensive, claiming that he himself will never give up on New York City. The original writer, a Manhattan comedy club owner, claims that many people have woken up to the idea that with today’s technology, many people can now live wherever they would like to live, by mostly working from home, and many people are finding other places to be cleaner, more affordable, and more restorative than living in New York City. The writer, James Altucher, suggests that the mass exodus from the city is not temporary.

I like visiting New York City. I have never had a desire to live there, but much like Jerry Seinfeld’s biggest argument about why New York City will make a roaring comeback, I know that there is a resilient, teeming, revitalizing energy in New York City that is seemingly non-replicable, anywhere else. I have felt it every time I have been there. This force of energy is, overwhelmingly, the best feature of the city, in my opinion.

That being said, I’m not going to write another piece about the redeeming and not so redeeming qualities of New York City. That is done and written ad nauseam, by more qualified writers than me. I think what struck me the most, about both of these articles, was the longing and the sadness which both men seemed to express about the loss of vitality that the city is currently experiencing. If, for argument’s sake, we want to call New York City, the energy center, the heart, and the pulse of our country, than New York City is currently being assisted by a early model pace maker with extremely weak batteries.

What I think a lot of us are deeply missing right now, no matter where we reside, even in our own bodies, is a sense of aliveness, liveliness, exuberance and vibrancy. When you feel limited, it is hard to get excited. When you can’t make plans with any sense of a good probability of the plans coming to fruition, it’s hard to muster up enthusiasm. Energy goes where energy flows and right now, many of us feel stagnant and restless, when we are not mired in apprehension and fear.

When we dropped off our youngest son at his off-campus university apartment last week, I got a little spoonful of that excited energy back. Much like NYC, there is a sizzling, underlying buzz that occurs, uniquely, in college towns. The energy there is youthful, hopeful, sometimes blindly optimistic, but full of wonder and desire and ardor and confidence, bordering on cockiness. It’s the kind of energy that fuels the flames in everyone’s heart, no matter what your age.

I am a believer that there will be a lot of changes in how and where people live and learn and work, even after a vaccine helps to tamp down the coronavirus. I think that this pandemic has been an eye-opening experience for the whole body of the world. But, even though science was never my favorite subject, even I know the first law of thermodynamics:

The first law of thermodynamics, also known as Law of Conservation of Energy, states that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; energy can only be transferred or changed from one form to another. (lumenlearning.com)

We may think that the world has become listless and lifeless, but I believe that the energy, the very Lifeforce that sustains all of us, is alive and well and flowing. Energy cannot be destroyed. It is flowing fervently in the minds of the scientists and the medical experts as they race to find solutions to stopping the devastation of the virus. Energy is whirling in the passionate hearts of teachers who are having to find whole new ways to reach their students, and to help them to learn. It’s pulsating in the creativity of innovators who are changing the way they do business, in order to stay afloat in uncertain waters. And of course this Lifeforce keeps our medical teams, physically and emotionally resilient, as they put in long, hard, taxing days, doing their best, to save lives.

I think that on some of these seemingly endless days of the pandemic, when I feel lethargic and listless, and maybe even slightly depressed, I am going to envision that my energy stores are flowing somewhere else, where they are greatly needed. I am going to pray that my energy is giving vitality to where it is much demanded, such as for a coronavirus patient, struggling with everything they have, to just hang on to life. Remember, what we give, is always returned to us. I imagine that the good, good feeling of visualizing my own energy being used where it is needed, will restore my own coffers more quickly than I could have ever imagined, opening my mind, and my heart and my soul to possibilities which I would have never thought of before. Maybe the world’s energy has been shaken and stirred by this pandemic, like a horrendous storm or a planet-sized snow globe, but when everything finally settles down again, the world’s energy will be balanced like it has never been before, and we will be in total awe, of the easy flow of it all. I hope so, with the most fervent energy still left in my heart.