Do you ever wonder about the transition between something new and something familiar? I've been living in a "new" apartment with my best friend for nineteen days now and out of nowhere it feels weird to go home to Long Island and to think of sleeping in the yellow walled room that I have lived in for that past 21+ years. When did that happen? I walk home from the train on Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays and pass the suddenly "familiar" sights...the madness of 34th and Fashion Ave with all of the stores and reminders of all of the money I do NOT have to spend, the countless restaurants with large windows facing the street easily facilitating people watching by both customer and passer-by, Union Square park market and my favorite Barnes and Noble (which my French father refers to as Barnes and Nobles because as French man he always unnecessarily puts an "s" on words that do not require an "s"), the Brother Jimmy's a block and a half away from my apt that is always packed and that I have yet to even enter because life is busy, and the bike shop on the corner of my block that my best friend bought a bike tarp from last week. When did this become familiar? This transition boggles my mind. Granted, I still do not have a bed in my room (I am a bit of a procrastinator to say the least and don't necessarily successfully plan much in my life), but something about my living situation and new habits already feels oh so right. I just started officially working in a new restaurant four blocks away from my apartment and while that has yet to become yet another "familiar" aspect of this new life, going there is no longer filled with awkward conversations of explaining that my name is Julie and not Joy (I think I really do not know how to say my name because nine times out of ten when I introduce myself people think that my name is Joy...thankfully it's not). The awkwardness of not knowing what wines we serve by the bottle and the domestic beers we have on draft still exist, but slowly I see myself acclimating to that new environment as well...is there a specific moment that this happens?
This kind of questioning leads me to question when I will drop this awkward tension in my future as well...when do students and teachers feel comfortable enough in a classroom where expression and learning and discovery can actually happen? This thought progression has always been a lingering thought in my mind, kind of like a silent hum that I haven't focused much attention on perhaps ever, but it really is intriguing to me. Does "good living" for me revolve around my ability to be a part of a habit of comfort and reliability? Is this merely human nature? How long does something last before it becomes old news and no longer something I enjoy as a part of a routine of my life? This type of questioning leads to me have all sorts of relationship questions as well...which perhaps is a whole other blog topic but worth thinking about amongst these other questions...is there really one person in the world that can keep you happy and on your feet while other areas of your life transition from A to B at all times? All I do know for sure is that monotony is not something that has ever given me any zest for life. In fact, I think what I fear the most is I could potentially reach a point in my life where I see no way out out of a particular situation.
Perhaps you are reading this and throwing me under a category: vagabond with no bed. I'm fine with that. I strive to love and be happy and challenged and experience as much as I possibly can...that for me is bon vivant. I don't think an answer to any of these questions would suffice in calming my curiosities yet my wondering continues. Ciao bellas.
This kind of questioning leads me to question when I will drop this awkward tension in my future as well...when do students and teachers feel comfortable enough in a classroom where expression and learning and discovery can actually happen? This thought progression has always been a lingering thought in my mind, kind of like a silent hum that I haven't focused much attention on perhaps ever, but it really is intriguing to me. Does "good living" for me revolve around my ability to be a part of a habit of comfort and reliability? Is this merely human nature? How long does something last before it becomes old news and no longer something I enjoy as a part of a routine of my life? This type of questioning leads to me have all sorts of relationship questions as well...which perhaps is a whole other blog topic but worth thinking about amongst these other questions...is there really one person in the world that can keep you happy and on your feet while other areas of your life transition from A to B at all times? All I do know for sure is that monotony is not something that has ever given me any zest for life. In fact, I think what I fear the most is I could potentially reach a point in my life where I see no way out out of a particular situation.
Perhaps you are reading this and throwing me under a category: vagabond with no bed. I'm fine with that. I strive to love and be happy and challenged and experience as much as I possibly can...that for me is bon vivant. I don't think an answer to any of these questions would suffice in calming my curiosities yet my wondering continues. Ciao bellas.
1) Julie, you are totally made to live in the city.
ReplyDelete2) I know what you're saying about going back to something after you've grown accustomed to something else. It's where that phrase "you can't go home again" comes from and, well, you can't.