Transitions

New York City: Transitions..

14th May 2012

So here is the story so far about what happened when I become ‘unaccomodated’ for a while, outside of the usual comfort zones of work, friendships and home.

I can only tell you about half the story at the moment. The bit about the city. Tomorrow I am ‘going to the woods’ in northern Minnesota, an area of pristine wilderness with limited telephone and internet access. A priest I spoke to in Hartford a few weeks ago assured me that music noise from the street would not be a problem where I am going, before adding helpfully, “It’ll be the wolves that keep you awake”

I have mixed feelings about leaving the city. I haven’t had enough yet or spent enough time understanding how it works. There are bits I have missed completely and streets I seemed to find myself crossing all the time.I have failed to walk the length of Central Park, twice. On both occasions I was distracted by something fun, took the wrong path, and ending up walking around in circles and finding myself back where I started!

I realised something interesting today though.

When I was doing placements on the psychiatric wards at Addenbrookes Hospital we were all given a book written by a mother whose son had learning difficulties, the title of which I utterly fail to remember. Her insight about the life of her son has stayed with me though. She said that Arthur was the best barometer of a person’s true character that she had ever come across.

Her child held up a mirror to others as they reacted to him,and to his profound disabilities. How people responded to him told her so much about them as a person, she came to see this mirroring as one of her sons greatest gifts.

I have walked the city over the last four weeks with very little agenda. Taken out of my usual roles and relationships. Free to ‘be myself’

The city has also been being itself and it has mirrored back to me some truths about how I really tick when nobody is looking. When I am anonymous. The city is a bundle of contradictions. You can find yourself standing in front of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’ one minute and overhearing a blood curdling row on the street the next. New Yorkers can be breathtakingly rude, particularly if they are not being paid enough for the service they are providing. They also conduct  conversations about superheroes which can involve a whole subway carriage, everybody chipping in their opinions, as people get on and off the train. Like most cities extreme poverty and extreme wealth rub shoulders with one another. Things work, and yet down in dark corners, things fall apart as well.

I have walked through all of this, somewhat like one of those little figures in a video game, interested and engaged but not actually responsible for any of it. My reactions have been immediate. I have been able to reflect on what has caused anger or stress, what are the things which have made me smile, when have I responded with kindness and when I haven’t. How we operate when we don’t fear the loss of reputation is very illuminating indeed and the city pushes us and then mirrors back to us something of our true self.

I will miss it very much.