Goodbye To All That

Everything is grey. Like New York is crying goodbye. Like it's time to leave now that the rain has come. We finally got to dance on the subway, on the very last day. There's always things you won't get to do in NY. I didn't get to stand on the bull, go to the container store, or sing karaoke. I think that's part of the beauty of New York. You come to this grand city, full of possibility and adventure, and you leave not quite getting to experience it all. The adventure will still be there. Waiting. Welcoming to any and all that try and make it there.

On the very last day I left Chelsea Market for a few hours of free time not knowing where to go. I honestly just wanted to talk to a stranger. To have a meaningful conversation. I was wandering around taking pictures, trying to capture New York life on the very last day. I popped into "Rags-A-GoGo" vintage clothing store just to see if there's any cool clothing item to get as a souvenir. And I met the most amazing woman. Joshua Suzanne. I walked in the store and she just started talking to me. It was like an answer to what I wanted. One more meaningful question. We just started talking about opera. She was ordering Opera tickets to go see a show with her mom. She'd been living in New York for 30 some years. Eventually we just talked about the meaning of life. A friend of her's stopped by, I'd say he was in his 70s and apparently he had just become a Mormon a few months ago. He had brought a quote by Mother Teresa by to show her. I took a picture of her with it, she didn't want me to ever forget it. Everything was meaningful about my time with her. The time I was given, the free time, with no meaning at all, suddenly had great meaning. It was powerful, because we created the meaning. The connection of two strangers. I've never met anyone with more knowledge of the New York changing styles throughout the decades, and she was so in touch with who she was, and how she dresses, how she changes her style and creates the look she wants. She talked a lot about the star signs. About churches that are open to all people and church as a business, she said that's what it is, it's a business. She talked about the age of Aquarius, that it's coming, a time of change. She also explained to me that since I'm a Sagittarius I can't live my life cooped up in a cubicle office. That I need to travel, to see the world. Whether or not I believe in the power of star signed, that is true. I just want to see the world. The wanderlust is real. She said that the meaning of life is to have fun, once you have privilege (because we were talking about privilege and how it allows us to do a lot more than at least half the world can do).

I asked her friend that came in about the meaning of life. He said, the meaning of life is memory. All you have is memory. Power is false. You get shot and your memory is gone, the power of one man gone in a second. I've thought a lot about that since that day. Memory. Is it all we really have? Is it what makes us unique? He said that only you have your memories, no one else can hold that kind of experience in the same way as you. They're what connect us, but also what make us distinct.

Here's the picture of Joshua and the quote, I feel extremely lucky to have met her, even for those brief couple of hours:

I came back to Spokane slightly sad. I miss New York, and my classmates, they have become dear friends. I came back expecting to make a lot of changes. I was ready for my life to begin. And when I got here I suddenly was overwhelmed with how stuck I am. I am stuck in this city, this school, this house, for another year and a half. I don't know where I would go if I could go anywhere. But I feel trapped.

Everything changes in January. Jan Term is a great way to make new friends, but also a time when it's easy to lose old friends. I want to be intentional with who I spend my time with. I want it to matter. The meaning of life really is the meaning of how we spend our time. That's all we have is a finite amount of time here on earth. Whether we find meaning, create meaning, or if meaning is given to us, we just have to deal with our time. I think change is a good thing. I think I'm trying to grow up. The how is difficult. How do we change for the better? How do we choose who to talk to? Who to text, call, or visit with in person?

I just tacked all these pictures up on my wall right before I left. They're mostly pictures of my Freshman and Sophomore years at Whitworth. But I think I might need to take them down. They remind me too much of what it means to live carelessly. I get sad when I see all of the memories that can never happen again, all of the people I no longer am very close with. I keep thinking about "the meaning of life is memories". That they're all we have. Only you have those memories. Only you can relive them. I love so many things that have happened in the last two years. But I can't stare at them everyday and not be sad about it. My life is different now, and I'm not quite at a place where I can remember fondly with a smile. (Update [a week later]: I still haven't taken them down, but they're growing on me, so I think I'll leave them up for now).

One question that was brought up during the trip was about forgiveness. Katrina was asking about forgiveness when we got pancakes in New Jersey. I keep thinking about this question: How do we live knowing there are people out there that don't forgive us? When you know someone holds a grudge, and apologizing will never help. How do we go on when there's nothing to do about it? I'm still not sure how to answer this. But I've started talking to some friends here in Spokane about it and that's helping. To know we all struggle with that. It's hard for anyone to live knowing there's people out there that don't forgive you.

I'm trying to pray everyday. To read the bible a little bit everyday. To see if I can develop a relationship with God. I really want Him to be real. I want my identity to be in Him. For His love to be enough. I've always felt like maybe it isn't enough. Like I need the love and attention from friends to live. And I think it's time I try to live with just me and God. Again, I have no idea how to go about doing that. But I want to try.

The first few days back I felt like this: "I'm just a shell of a person, I feel hollow and empty. It's like when a star burns out and it never lights up again. Maybe the blackness is a different kind of pretty. It hurts to be alone. I'm never going to be the person I was before I left. She's gone."

I like the idea of a different kind of pretty. Not necessarily a black hole lacking starlight though. But I've definitely changed. I think there was this longing right upon returning to be who I was before. Like something was missing. New York is missing. Hanging out with such incredible people 24/7 is missing. And sure the "old me" is missing, but that's not the part that leaves me feeling hollow. It's the longing to go back to life in the city that leaves me feeling a little empty. I'm starting to fill back up again. I'm starting to develop new patterns of life. To figure out how to live my life in the way that I've always wanted it to look like. I'm just beginning.

I had to say goodbye to New York, goodbye to all that wonderfulness.

But my real life, the meaning, has just begun.