New York Goodbye

Back when I lived in Central America I developed this thing where I knew that if I was really into a song, the song would be interrupted.

Happened all the time. Vibing hard, the power gonna cut or somebody’s gonna unplug the Zune or the CD’s gonna skip.

I hated this for a long time, but I grew to love it. It was inoculating. Strengthening. A reminder that nothing is permanent and everything and everybody is gonna evaporate. Later or sooner. So enjoy it right now.

But even with that in my back pocket, New York goodbye is an adjustment.

It happens in an instant.

You‘re walking uptown with someone, deep in conversation, and all of a sudden ”I gotta go this way. See you later.” Maybe there’s a handshake, or a fist bump or a hug, but then you're alone again.

Or you’re on the train and out of the blue the person you’re with says, “This is my stop”. And now you gotta go quiet.

Or you’re on the phone in full flow and boom they're needed elsewhere, and it's gone from one sentence to the next.

It’s just how it is here. I do it too. Gotta keep it pushin'.

This didn't happen to me much until I moved here. Now it happens all the time. Like I said, an adjustment. I grew up with midwest goodbyes, where people slap their knees and start edging towards the door a half hour before they actually go.

But as much as the New York goodbye can sting, I’m growing to love it too.

It keeps me ready. Ready for the moment when once again the scenario is gonna change, and I have to change with it. I like myself better this way. When I'm accepting of what's happening, rather than trying to hang on to what it used to be.

Like my old taoist teacher Bruce likes to say. "If you accept what is, there is no stress."

So I work at it, and I wait for the inevitable change. Because for most of us living in my part of the world, we ain't seen nothing yet.

DF

Written on the A train from Fulton to 145. 10pm.