Back "Home" and Blue After Life in New York City
Readjustment - to adjust or arrange again
I'm in a period of readjustment, arranging life again in my old home after an extended period away in the most intoxicating, exasperating, exciting, energetic city in the universe.
A few short weeks ago I said goodbye to "New York" and made my way south.
A week in the relatively calm Turks and Caicos capital, Provodenciales, parked on Grace Bay, one of the world's most beautiful beaches…..
Followed by several days in sunny South Beach….
That was my transition from life in a luxury hi-rise in a frenetic neighborhood to my 40-year-old "it's-time-to-replace-everything" townhouse in what feels to me now like a dead zone.
You can go home again. But i don't think you can recreate - exactly -- the place you left. Especially so, after the place you've been for the past two years is so different. I knew I couldn't live there forever. It's too expensive. The overbearing crush of people, the cacophony, the grit would bear down on me over time and make me crazier.
Even so, I think it's going to take some time to feel like I am home again in a place that never felt like home.
So I'm vowing to not try to recreate the place it was when I left, but to make it something different.
I don't really want to go back to that place or the person I was in that space.
So I am taking my time, not rushing to unpack the boxes.
Instead, I'm waiting to see what grabs and inspires me.
Everything will be new.
Except I am so bringing back the Tuscan gold-yellow-orange paint on the downstairs walls.
It's warm, it's cheerful and it makes me happy.
I'm in a period of readjustment, arranging life again in my old home after an extended period away in the most intoxicating, exasperating, exciting, energetic city in the universe.
A few short weeks ago I said goodbye to "New York" and made my way south.
A week in the relatively calm Turks and Caicos capital, Provodenciales, parked on Grace Bay, one of the world's most beautiful beaches…..
That was my transition from life in a luxury hi-rise in a frenetic neighborhood to my 40-year-old "it's-time-to-replace-everything" townhouse in what feels to me now like a dead zone.
You can go home again. But i don't think you can recreate - exactly -- the place you left. Especially so, after the place you've been for the past two years is so different. I knew I couldn't live there forever. It's too expensive. The overbearing crush of people, the cacophony, the grit would bear down on me over time and make me crazier.
Even so, I think it's going to take some time to feel like I am home again in a place that never felt like home.
So I'm vowing to not try to recreate the place it was when I left, but to make it something different.
I don't really want to go back to that place or the person I was in that space.
So I am taking my time, not rushing to unpack the boxes.
Instead, I'm waiting to see what grabs and inspires me.
Everything will be new.
Except I am so bringing back the Tuscan gold-yellow-orange paint on the downstairs walls.
It's warm, it's cheerful and it makes me happy.
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