It never ceases to amaze me that I fall more and more in love with New York City every day.
I was with my friend and former PR intern cohort, AT, wandering around central park. We walked and walked, beginning on the upper west side and slowly making our way toward the north east. We clamored along, sweating out the toxic fumes of her successful Friday night out and my bed chandday.
We suddenly came across what seemed to be a scene from the novel The Secret Garden, perfectly manicured bushes surrounding the most angelic fountain, headed by a statue and dotted with vibrant green lily pads and water flowers.
I’ve lived in New York for five years and have never been inside this garden. I never even knew that it existed even though I have been in Central Park countless times and wandered enumerable miles from corner to corner.
It made me think about how big the world truly is. Even inside this man-made park there are countless unknown places to come across, a new adventure around every corner.
You can wander the globe for your whole life and never see all of it. How could you? You being just a tiny speck in this massive universe could not possibly embark on a journey to see the whole world in one lifetime. It almost made me sad, myself full of endless hope, that there was truly no way that I could ever see the whole world, could ever try every food, could ever know every pleasure and luxury out there to be had.
Which of course got me thinking on the thing ever so constantly on my mind, love. In a world so huge, so monstrous, isn’t it really possible that by just sheer geography alone, that I could never find the one I’m meant to be wit for the rest of my life?
I had to pull myself away from these somber thoughts so that I could take a much deserved moment to enjoy this beautiful fountain tucked inside this magical garden, hidden away in central park, smack dab in the middle of one of the most populated cities in the world.
New York fills me with a kind of childlike wonderment that I can hardly put to words. Standing in Central Park, away from the pee-scented, concrete streets, smelling the freshly cut grass and feeling the warm August sun on my face is like being transported to somewhere beyond the congested buildings and city life. It amazes me that I can find this kind of wide-open space and sense of peace in such a big city.
As I sit here in my upper west side apartment, with my little fan blowing on my face to avoid the costly bill that comes along with the air conditioner, sitting on the mattress on the floor that serves as my bed and listening to the sounds of car horns and children’s voices on the streets six floors below, I can’t help but feel lucky. I must try to remember to avoid the creeping anxiety that comes upon me when I ponder my life and the fears that are constantly in the back of my mind. When I start to think that I may never achieve my goals or that I may never be successful or even that I may never find love I should really remember that my first love is New York, and I am so fortunate to be here. And maybe, with a little luck and a lot of hard work, I can have everything my heart desires after all.