Just 15 minutes into my 36th year, I was given someone else’s words to use as my vocabulary.
My whole life passed before my eyes, and it wasn’t even interesting to me.
-Edward Garlick (played by Forest Whitaker) from Good Morning Vietnam
I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I am ready to be great, or to die trying. I’ve seen friends old and new who are here to do incredible things, and with my eyes open, I’m seeing it more and more.
"There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter — the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something.
…Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness; natives give it solidity and continuity; but the settlers give it passion." -EB White, Here is New York
As much as I have a "grass is greener" romanticism about lawns and the freedom that driving offers, I came here four years ago because I wanted to "make it in New York". By some measures, I did that very well. A few promotions at work, rising the ladder, respected by those whose opinions I care about and many others. I was living with a woman I loved and who made me laugh. Though I cherished her and wanted to find a way to give her what she needed, and she’d have sacrificed quite a lot for me, what we need to be happy was different. She deserves to be happy, and so do I. I really hope that she can be.
Inspiration can come from anywhere, and it’s been coming fast and furious lately. From understanding more and more my ways of thinking, to reading something I wrote long ago, to surprising people with the passion I can exhibit when I’m in my state of flow. I’ve become more confident and less afraid of loss.
Not long ago, I saw someone smiling while in a state of flow, and it reminded me of an early poem of mine, a favorite titled Smile. I’ve had what you might call "less literary" folks tell me that they don’t like poetry, but they liked this, and I’ve seen several people cry when reading it. My crossroads was different then, I was afraid and trying to convince myself that I wasn’t. I don’t have much of a visual memory, but there was a smile burned into my mind which got me through.
In the smile from a few months ago, I saw a glimpse of real passion, of self-actualization, of confidence of purpose.
It was in that moment that I realized that I became one of White’s settlers here for a purpose. And I was reminded of a strength I used to have, a confidence that I developed as my writing became less about personal therapy and more about words, images, and perspective.
I’ve registered for a poetry workshop called Catching Fire (interestingly, the domain I use for my personal e-mail, registered almost a decade ago, is litfire.com) at New School University. I visited an open mic poetry night called The Inspired Word which, well, inspired me, both the performers and the welcoming environment. They, too, are White’s settlers.
It’s time for me to make it here for real, with grit. And now with my eyes open, I see just how much there is that New Yorkers give to each other to keep the art in their hearts alive. While there’s plenty of bullshit in this town, there’s nothing quite like it’s community of settlers and I know that they’ll welcome and nourish me because they already know my soul, even if they haven’t met me. I just have to show them and learn from them and give back.
On this, my 35th birthday, I decide to live my life with purpose, to "pay it forward" with inspiration.
There are a million ways to do it. Even sharing stories about my own self-discoveries has, I think, struck a chord with some people I care about. I hope that follow-through may inspire them.
In the mean time, I’m going to continue to choose to try things a bit outside my comfort zone. I’ve come to realize the disparity between the risk and reward.
The rest of my life starts today. No more waiting for my real life to begin.
Please join me, and don’t forget to smile.