Nothing specifically New York-ish but...

...I've become more aware of the interconnectedness of the all things since becoming a part of such an extraordinary mass of human beings. In the large scale churnings of such a magnificent place, I find myself contemplating many aspects of human interaction on all levels.

In this mindset, and with the passing of the seemingly hate-filled Fred Phelps this past week and the wide range of viewpoints surrounding his death, I've given much thought to the motivations behind such rage and hatred and the continuum of emotions. His life certainly did exemplify the extreme of such emotions towards a specific minority, but gratefully, I believe this extremism has benefited more than harmed the call to equality.

On a wider scale, I've also been giving much thought to compassionate responses to such hateful stances--those marked as extreme stances and also, those marked as less offensive (sarcasm intended). Many responses to Phelps' passing have been beautifully compassionate, especially coming from the LGBT community, and it has made me proud of my LGBT...family. You see, everyone loses when we retaliate; it simply snowballs into a more hate-filled society and fuels the misunderstandings, the fear, and the ignorance. We must choose, I must choose to be the one who says, "Enough." I must be the one to choose compassion and peace as a way of life. It reminds me of the idea I often see floating around social media: I said to myself "someone should do something about this," and then I realized that I am someone.

I admittedly falter in this choice of compassionate response at times; inequality hurts a real, living, breathing human being and hurt can trigger my anger. Lumping a group of people together and applying a one-size-fits-all judgment may help in casting judgments, but in truth, these are individual souls--a child, a mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a friend--just searching for happiness, love, and peace like any other being. In this particular topic, I've been both the judge (ashamedly) and the judged, therefore I hold an advantage of having experienced each mindset and its effects.

Spring is in the air; perhaps its a perfect time for all of us to reevaluate our judgments, our responses, our viewpoints, and our motivations in regards to our place in the family of humanity. Spring cleaning of the soul might lead to a refreshingly new approach towards all of our fellow beings just trying to make it in this journey called life.

Feelings of Spring in NYC

While the Love I now call home spent the day in the foreign lands of Brooklyn yesterday, I sat out on the hunt for a desperately needed pair of khakis and a new something to explore. I had exhausted all other options, so I took a deep breath and walked through the revolving door of Macy’s…yes, that one. My severe lack of shopping fervor and this eight floored mammoth don’t play nicely, and any survived trip to this colossal zoo is considered a roaring success.

I rewarded myself with a cappuccino from Keko's (thank you for the introduction, Tiffany) and a nice sunny hour in Madison Square Park. We've almost survived our first winter here, and I have a sneaking suspicion that springtime will be worth every single early morning trek in the bitter, snowy cold.

A collective sense of relief could be sensed in the droves of New Yorkers who were out and about today. The streets and the park was alive with activity. There were those enjoying a book, lunch, conversation, or simply the sunshine. Children were making their wobbly way towards the playground on tiny bikes with parents in tow. The air was filled with laughter coming from that direction as well.

Three months. I’m shocked when I realize we've been here only three months. Tom Wolfe once said, “One belongs to New York instantly, one belongs to it as much in five minutes as in five years.” I’d add to that: either one feels they belong to New York instantly or they don’t, in which case they may never feel it. Perhaps that is how it is with most places, but it seems surely the case here.

Ciao.

P.S. Last weekend we hosted our very first official visitors to NYC! It was exciting for us, and we were so pleased to show them a small bit of our little city. With time, we'll be better tour guides, but merci for letting us practice on you, Marie & Warren.

exploration en solo

It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood today. The wifey has a new part time job, so I found myself exploring the city alone today. [insert a bit of a sad face here] My agenda was three-fold: A used bookstore by Union Square, the area surrounding the hotel chosen by our (first official) friends/visitors next weekend, and to locate the Whole Foods by Central Park.

First, I love riding the subway. Perhaps at some point it will become dull and monotonous, but each and every ride reminds me that we are really and truly living here. In addition, I am an avid fan of people watching. One thing in particular that stood out today, is how many adorable little older couples live in this city. I seldom take a trip anywhere by any means of transportation that I do not encounter these seemingly ancient couples.

At our bus stop today before we parted ways for work and the city, one such ancient couple exited the bus as we waited to get on. The man made his way through the crowded bus first and hopped off in front of us. As he did so, he yelled back into the bus, "ya coming, Pancake?" in a thick NY accent. As I looked onto the still crowded bus, here comes "pancake" making her way through the crowded aisle. "I'm coming, Pancake!" she answered back, as she ask for my arm to help her step off the bus. The last we saw of them, they were walking arm in arm up the sidewalk toward their destination. I don't know their story, but as we made our way onto the crowded bus, I thought to myself, "if we should be so lucky."

I found every spot on my agenda today, but my mind drifted back often to the ancient little couple and their cute interaction we had witnessed. I found myself aware of many other such older couples as I made my way through the city. They all seemed in their own little world, conversing with one another, and oblivious to the bustle around them. How beautiful it is to find someone who is willing to walk with you through this journey called life.

As for my agenda, I found the Mecca of used bookstores today: Strand. Priceless. I am also now semi-confident of the area and its offerings for next weekend's visitors. As for the Whole Foods...well, let's just say it was a zoo. The entire store was much busier than the bread aisle before a snowstorm, and I believe we'll be finding our health food elsewhere.

Married Life Suits Me

Ahhh, married life. A friend sent us a small little piece of décor that states, “I love us,” and I have to say that I couldn't have said it better myself. I love us in our tiny space with moving boxes for tables, I love us in our endless conversations, and I love us in the peaceful silence of just being together. All I thought I knew about love, happiness, and peace has been blown away by this Love I now call home—and now wifey.

I also love us in this city; I love that others around us see us as…well…as a legitimate us. I love that the girls at work threaten to tell my wife, when I won’t stop doing something in particular. I love that that customers ask about my wife’s school and our new “flat”. I love that we can file our taxes together and mark “spouse” on random forms. I didn't anticipate the true difference I would feel living in a city that legally and structurally acknowledges us. Our relationship, our love, our laughter, and our sheer enjoyment of one another’s company has not changed, except perhaps in growth, but it is a nice feeling to be acknowledged. I am truly grateful.

While my own feelings of peace are rapturous, my heart is heavy for my LGBT brothers and sisters in places such as Uganda, Russia, and unfortunately, I could add a few of our own United States to this list. I cannot imagine the terror or discouragement they feel. Because of the fear of violent discrimination, imprisonment, or in some cases, even death, they are not free to experience the us feeling that surrounds me every day.  As I am keenly aware of my own freedom in this aspect, I am also challenged to speak up for those, in all cases, whose voices have been silenced.

I wasn't always this free to be myself; having grown up in a society openly unaccepting of that which I felt I was, I understand, to a small degree, what the struggle feels like, although notably and gratefully without the elements of violence many of these now face. Many thoughts swirl in my head. It leaves me wondering what it might take for us to reach a point of nondiscrimination, nonviolence, and peace. Can WE reach a point where we can accept our diversity within the fabric of our interconnectedness?