Day 3: Road to India (Bronx, NY, USA)

November 15, 2009

Today, I woke up with freedom on mind. I remembered how I felt oddly homesick the days leading up to my departure. I asked a few people close to me if it’s possible to be homesick without leaving home? They would hug me and made some audible “awe” sound, as if to say “isn’t that sweet” and “I have no idea what you’re taking about but your leaving and allowed to be a little weird” and we’d move on to whatever we were doing.

Up until a few days ago I took it for granted that I knew what it meant to be homesick, but now I realize I don’t have a clue. It’s not what I felt at 19 years old as lay crying in my rack in the dark of night in a squad bay that held the 50 some young women marines that made up the platoon 5A. I cried then because I was feared that I might not be able to keep up with the demands of being someone I had yet to become and of the five Drill Instructors that wouldn’t think twice of kicking my ass to be sure I became her. It would have been so much easier to be home with mom so I cried, and someone decide to diagnosis me as ‘homesick.” So what is it? I guess it’s what one feels when they are afraid of feeling the growing pains of becoming something more than they are now, or simply know they can be more.

I’m not homesick today! Today I woke up steady and grounded in the faith and trust I have come to know as the center of me. Here I am in all my glory, one healthy 51-year-young poised woman who lives life each day with the wonderment and optimism of a child. Not knowing whom I’ll meet or even what I might do today, but with all the confidence that it will be good, no matter whoever I meet and whatever I do!

I blogged after the usual pee and tea about 10:30, which could be considered early since I finally falling asleep at 3:30ish. I skyped, showered and dressed knowing I would be going into the City for last time for who knows how long. It’s all about this precious and blessed moment in time, right now! It was 14:00 when I made my way to the ‘D’ train headed for downtown, and then my stride straightened as the picture of Lower Manhattan came to my right brain. I knew immediately that was my destination and said, “Yes” probably audibly for my fellow subway passengers to hear. I rode the vibration of the train listening to a ‘mixed tape’ on my iPod that my friend Dan made for me when the thought “I need to change trains” came and instead of checking my subway map tucked into the back pocket of my travel purse my friend Irma gave me, I jump off the train at the next stop. I asked a platform conductor to direct me to my destination and he said, “Oh Yes, all you need to do is cross over and catch the ‘A’ train to Chambers”. My heart sang and I looked up to God, my prayer of gratitude penetrating the yards of steel and concrete between the sky and me. I’m beginning to feel quite sure that God has sent instructions to every earthly angel to roll out the ‘convenient’ carpet (what color is that anyway?) to ease my every step.

I went straight to Ground Zero, camera ready, iPod playing one of “Dan’s favorites”, which has become one of mine. I don’t know the name of the angel that’s singing the words in my ears (“be still and know that even when you are lost and lonely and hope is gone you’re not alone. Through the darkness see there’s a light, remember that God loves you.”) I scanned Ground Zero with my video camera from my perch atop marble planter in front of the Millennium Hotel, I began to weep as I thought about the great sadness that fell on this place only eight short years ago. I want to tell them “through the darkness see the light and remember God loves you.” Thank you Dan for choosing this song to carry me on my journey.

It was 68 degrees at 15:00 in Manhattan in the middle of November. The gods are happy! I walked around the corner and saw a mother and her young son sitting on the concrete steps. There was some teaching going on, maybe for their faith or religion because he wore a small black cap on his of his head with a beautiful braiding on it and he was mimicking his mom. It was something out of a old-world Jewish fairytale. As I walked by them I was swept into their endearment. I filmed them and eventually walked on. It was difficult because the energy there was clean and Godly.

I went to the nearby park with the fountain and old flamed lanterns. I’ve never known the name of this graceful place. I walked along filming the trees, which are changing late in the year, another one of my mysterious gifts. I’ve had every intention to come here for the changing of the leaves/season, since Christmas of 2008.

I left there with an equally graceful farewell. I’m comfortable with telling things and places ‘farewell’ for I share this world with them too. I made my way into the subway and was redirected to 59 Street by the interrupted train schedule due to reconstruction of the tracks. I embraced those ‘interruptions’ and heed them as co-creations with the divine. I exited the station and went straight for Central Park as the sun was setting. I picked up a few leaves (one is in my journal and the other is now on it’s way to Yvonne for her scrapbook). There’s a café just as you enter the park and I returned to it for a cup of tea and to sit at a small tabled lit by the café’s bright lights. I sat for over an hour journaling until my fingertips became chilled (I wore the fingerless gloves mom gave me). The Starbucks, that mom spotted Raquel Welch at in 2002, was right behind me. I first stood in line for the restroom and when it was mine turn I entered and locked the door behind me and then noticed an official looking set of keys still in the storeroom door. I finished my business and return the keys to the barista. His mouth dropped open and said a passionate ‘thank you’. The manager said what can we get you. I got a chai tea and coffee cake on the house. There’s wasn’t an open seat when I entered but as soon as collected my treats I saw that someone was leaving a large table. I pulled out my laptop and skyped mom and Yvonne and when she saw my leaf she requested and since I was completing my thank-you cards I dropped the small one into her card. I was happy to share my large table with August, from Africa, but now a Manhattan-ite.

This is my last evening in NYC and thought it might make sense to get home for a good nights sleep so I headed for the subway after a quick stop at the mailbox at 61st. I got a call from my friend, Krista, so I stopped at the entrance of the 59th Street station (Columbus Circle) to hold the call. I was chatting away and saw a familiar face coming out of the subway. He paused and a few seconds later we placed each other. It was Aaron, an eHarmony match that I dated in the Inland Empire, coming out of the station. He was there on unplanned vacation. He asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be in India?” I explained and we said our good-byes and I went into the station in perplexity.

What does this mean? What do I want to make it mean? Especially since running into David, an old boyfriend I dated 13 years ago, in a Riverside CVS drugstore two-days before I leaving. (we are both single.) At that moment I thought, what am I missing here? I let it go and went on my journey and now I have run into another man whom I thought had the potential to be my life partner. After some soul-searching, I see that there’s something that these men have in common, besides me of course, and that’s how held a belief that something will prevent these men from wanting me and if they don’t, I’ll generate it. I have an amazing opportunity to transform this, if I haven’t already with my most recent liberation.