It’s Tuesday night and I’m home, listening to a song on repeat while I read a book about women writers and being single. I’ve been bouncing back and forth between reading and an IM exchange with my friend, pulling in bits from what I’m reading and connecting them to ongoing conversations about dating and friendship and relationships. We get sidetracked into a quick discussion about Harry Potter (Harry Potter is always an acceptable bird walk, no matter the conversation) because she’s finally made it to book six and I have book seven ready to lend.
I’ve been running around a lot this summer, from work events to seeing shows (always, seeing shows) to social gatherings to literally running around with visiting friends or family. I’ve written before about both how important it is to say yes to things and about how important it is to have quiet nights to breathe, but lately I’ve been thinking about how crucial it is to have time and space to think.
It was on my mind recently when I was at the airport. Travel is cathartic for me, a chance to let go of the everyday, and I couldn’t help wishing, last time I flew to visit my family, that I’d have to wait a little longer before getting on the plane, that I’d have just a little more time to sit and be. When I know a flight is only a short one it’s harder to sink into the freeing sensation of being in between. I wanted more of that transitional, liminal time, because it’s separate from my life in New York and from my life when I visit my family at home.
It’s easy to get bogged down in everyday life and lose perspective. There’s a clarity that comes with being away, and I can’t always drop everything and go to a new place alone, or sit at an airport for a few hours. Last night I got a flash of something when I passed through Madison Square Park and snapped a few photos of the Empire State Building, some hint of that intangible New York feeling that is why I started this blog to begin with. Tonight it’s enough to read something that takes me outside myself, to have a conversation that offers new insight, and to listen to and learn from a song about hope and love. Tomorrow . . . well, ask me tomorrow.