The Worth of Humanity

Amid all this talk about Donald Sterling, the owner of the basketball team the Clippers, I've felt anger slowly building inside me. It's bad enough that Sterling made those comments in the first place but what made it worse was the seemingly lackadaisical response of many people. I expected boycotts. I expected basketball players, especially the Clippers to refuse to play until Sterling was adequately punished. What I got was lukewarm coverage and the bare minimum showing of defiance. What I got was not enough. At first I thought it was cowardice. 

But then I realized it was money. No one wants to sacrifice losing money by not holding a game. So the show goes on and a man who has clearly said some vile and racist words can go days without punishment or accountability. The money keeps pouring in. No one wants to lose out on a profit. 

But I feel like we are losing something greater. Our integrity. Our pride. When we are met with racism our reaction isn't big enough anymore. It isn't outraged enough. We aren't making enough of a scene. We aren't calling people out. Because let's face it, Sterling isn't the only one in a position of power who feels this way. He's just the voice we heard, making it all the more real. Meanwhile he takes our money and profits from our labor while he and others like him snub us. He doesn't mind owning a team where the majority of players are black but the very idea of interacting with one of them disgusts him

I hope that if there is ever the unfortunate moment where I am met with an employer or colleague who outwardly or inwardly despises me and people like me. But if I am met with such a situation and I become aware of it, I hope I don't chose money over the worth of my humanity; the integrity of my soul. No amount of money is worth being dehumanized. No amount of power has any hold over what makes me human. No man can take away the core of me. And no amount of chains, whether figurative or metaphorical can hold me down. I would hope that I would fight. That I would protest. I would hope that I don't just take my check in silence. 

I hope that I would be brave enough to take a stand. 

Project Parks- High Line

Among the remnants of railroad tracks, green springs forth in the resilient way that only nature can. It gives off a feeling of disuse, of time left to slowly reclaim what mankind had once taken hold of. Leaves nestle against steel. Linear planks of wood make room for trees to stretch their branches.

This is the High Line. It's a perfect example of an urban park. The old West Side Line had been recycled into a beautiful greenway and this was the amazing result. When walking through it, I was aware of how fluidly man and nature integrated itself into the design of this space. Around me, the city hummed. Cars below sped by without care. However high above, in the place I inhabited, the sounds seemed farther away. It was as if by entering the High Line I had discovered a place still on the verge of industrial creation. Or at the beginning of nature's takeover on our modern world. It was unlike anything I had ever seen.

I took the A train to 14th street and walked the distance to Gansevoort street. The park stretches from Gansevoort to 34th street in a long expanse of wood and carefully tended plant-life. Taking in the sights around me, the budding trees, the boardwalk below my feet, the plants growing contently in this space I felt calm.

There were vendors selling food along the path and at the edge of each side, buildings sprang up like great steel behemoths, temporarily bringing me back to reality and subsequently leaving me in awe of how such a space arrived here in the first place.

It truly is a unique experience, simple yet worthwhile. I'd recommend giving the High Line a visit. Enjoy a moment of peace before leaving it behind and walking those city streets. It's definitely worth it.

Project Parks

The weather is getting much nicer and with it a desire is blooming within me to really take advantage of the beauty of New York City. Though the tall buildings and abundance of people of various cultures is a beautiful sight in itself, I am turning my gaze towards the greener side of things. I want to focus on the parks. 

As a friend has pointed out there are a great deal of parks to explore in nyc but I've set my sights on doing just that. I may not be able to get to them all but I will get to as much as I am able. I am calling this adventure, Project Parks. The whole idea is kinda exciting to me! Winter has been so bleak, so boring, so...cold. Now the trees are regaining their leaves and the flowers are opening up to the world and they are beckoning me to come and see them in all their urban glory. 

So whenever I visit a new park I will name the title of my blog entry, "Project Parks-____" and then the name of the park I visited. I'm not a tour guide but I will express how I felt going there and whether or not I would ever go there again. I will of take photos (naturally) and talk to people (maybe, I'm shy!) and enjoy what the park has to offer. Mainly I'll enjoy myself and I'll share my joy with you. I can't wait. 

The Return

I am now officially back on social media after giving it up for Lent. It's nice to be back on with all my friends from different states and parts of the world. I've missed them all. Being away for all that time has really made me focus on the relationships I have in the real world. It made me grateful to know such sweet and amazing people, who actually want to spend time with me and whose unique personalities always make our outings so much fine. I'm a lucky woman. 

This break from Lent also gave me a lot of time to myself. I had feared that the loneliness would sadden me. All it did was make me realize how precious solitude is. I enjoyed being alone. I enjoyed the silence and the weight of my own body moving through the world. And whenever I felt separated from the online world, I'd center myself with the knowledge that I am surrounded by great people. It's amazing how the ones you love can become the anchors that keep you from losing yourself. I held on tightly to them and then, when I regained my courage, I slowly, cautiously, let go. 

This was an experience I needed, a break that felt as relieving as it did frightening. I really found myself enjoying the moment as it was happening, not trying to post it on Instagram. I just let it be and basked in it. That's not to say I didn't miss posting my experiences somewhere all my friends could see. I like to share the moments of my life I find beautiful. Even the most simple things. Like today for instance, I visited Rockefeller Center to view the beautiful faberge eggs that were on display. I took pics of most of them but not before enjoying them unfiltered. I understood the nature of balance then, of not letting one thing consume you. I can always take a pic, but I realized the importance of enjoying the now. And it was a really lovely experience. 

And while enjoying the beautiful weather and finding myself, I happened to find faberge egg Waldo lol. 

All and all I'm happy to be back in the world of memes and status updates, but I will not neglect what exists right outside my tablet screen. This world is meant for living. I will live it and share these bursts of happy moments on the way. 

Cruising.

So I had my first driving lesson yesterday. 

Correction; I had my first freak out session behind the wheel of a car and then I had my first driving lesson. Being a long time passanger has made me quite anxious and neurotic about nyc drivers and their unquestionable desire (in my mind) to run my down. They drive too fast, barely signal when they turn, they scream at you for walking, they honk if you're breathing...ok slight exaggeration on the last one but you get the point. They're angry. And I, naturally, am terrified. 

So getting behind the wheel of a car with the intention of moving among these manic creatures made me very scared. My instructor was kind. He told me to go slowly and I did. He told me the proper way to get out of a parking spot and into the street. A man waiting to park behind me started screaming. Already. I hadn't even put the car in drive and already people were screaming at me. My legs were shaking, my eyes were wide. I felt like some bug-eyed animal left among a pit a predators. I prayed that I wouldn't die. 

I didn't. Obviously. But I seriously considered that as a possibility. 

What happened instead was a slow but not too bad experience where I slowly but surely turned, stopped, reversed and drove my car with the caution of an old lady, much to my instructor's pleasure. 

He said I wasn't too bad. I thought he was just saying that to be nice but still, I couldn't help but feeling a little pride. 

Openings

I've been having dreams lately about door and windows and prison bars slammed shut. And in each dream I'm on the inside, reaching through those prison bars are closing the doors myself. In my dreams there was always a stranger on the other side, seeking to come in or, in the case of the prison, turning their back away from my touch. Those people were foreign yet familiar, as if I'm seeing my own reflection at the bottom of some lake and mistaking that other self as the enemy. I'm either pulling back or diving in. Existing or drowning. In the dreams, neither choice seems especially tempting. 

I've been playing a really innovative video game that continuously refers to a "time of miracles" in reference to a change that happens on the cusp of the journey. Every time I read that line I smile and wonder if my own journey will subsequently lead to a "time of miracles". If so, what would that miracle be? I feel as if it has to do with my dreams of many different kinds of openings closed shut before me and of my reaching out or pulling back. Both actions I commit to hestitantly. 

I'm dream walking. Dream waking. I'm searching for my time of miracles. Before me is a door, a window, a prison cell. I am trapped behind each one, hiding or seeking my other self on the other side. I both scared and desperate. My hand reaches out; pulls back. My reflection comes towards me or turns her back to me. Fear blooms within my heart. Loneliness spreads along my palms, singing my lifelines like the infinite trails of stars. 

And then I wake up. 

A Different Kind of Day

I woke up this morning to the red burst up sunrise stretching over the horizon. I watched it change from crimson to gold and felt my spirit lift, as if dawn had chased away the fog of sadness obscuring my mind. April has come. It's time to put away my mourning. Gray days will come, that is inevitable but at this moment I feel closer to happiness. 

I chose a shirt of dark shades, lightening into a color more springlike and beautiful. It reflects the ascent of my spirit as I face a new day with fragile tendrils of hope. 

I'm waiting for the flowers to bloom. Meanwhile I'll plant seeds in my mind. They will be reminders that rainy days always bring something fruitful in the end, something beautiful and thriving; something that carries within it remnants of sunshine.