By Beauty Damned

The City

Coming home from Oregon is difficult. I feel so depressed. I feel like I could cry at the drop of a hat (and I have been). There's always this long period of readjustment where I have to remember what it is that I love about living here in New York and why it wouldn't work out to move back west. It takes a while to get back to feeling exhilerated about living in this city. Right now I feel deprived. Deprived of nature, deprived of family and a real group of friends. The heat here is horrendous. I feel like there is no escape. There are no rivers. No lakes. Not even any good swimming pools that don't require some fancy membership that only rich people can afford. It is 90% humidity outside that turns my bones to jello and hardcore air conditioning inside that freezes me to death. It is elevators and escalators and asphalt and trains and grumbling commuters and assholes of all shapes and sizes. If I could have one wish right now, it would be to live in a big, beautiful house near a wonderful beach or a pristine river and not have to worry about money or work or clutter or cities full of people who are so busy that they don't even have time to sit down and think about whether or not they are enjoying their lives or what it is that they're missing out on while being consumed in the rat race.

I know this feeling will pass. I know that the walls will close back in and I too will cease to dwell on the things that I'm missing. And that makes me sadder than anything else. I live in a city that is so removed from nature that after awhile being here, a person can almost forget that nature exists at all…that there are canyons coursing along this earth flowing year round with beautiful jade water that is crystal clear all the way to the bottom, deep pools for swimming, trees for shade and sand for sun, rocks for jumping and logs for sitting; that there are creeks that crash all the way down from the highest mountains down into the lowest valleys, never stopping, never closing up or shooing away, just being there whenever you have a minute to stop by, today or ten years from now. Ironically, I am on an island that is surrounded by water on all sides. There is no force of nature greater than water, yet the waters that surround us here represent the most intangible kind of nature. A massive river that I can't touch or jump into because it would just fling me to my demise or suffocate me in its pollution.

When I was flying into New York early on Sunday morning I was blown away by the view. My plane flew over Manhattan as we descended to JFK airport. Everything looked so gray. The buildings, the water, the sky as far as the eye could see all the way to the massive arc of the earth's horizon. The water swirled and glittered forever. The actual land seemed so tiny in comparison to the vast rivers and oceans that surround this island of skyscrapers. It was surreal. I couldn't believe that this is the place I call home now. After six years, it IS home. There's no doubt.

Soon all of this sadness will subside. But right now it is all-consuming. The images of my trip are still in the forefront of my memory. That day at the Illinois River with my brother and my sister…in the hot sun, jumping into the perfect water…watching my siblings enjoy the day…seeing my brother look a picture of perfect health and wellness…It was all so beautiful. I yelled at the top of my lungs from the water, "IF ONLY THIS MOMENT COULD LAST FOREVER!!!!!" Everyone just smiled at me from the water's edge, thinking the same thing, wishing that life were that easy all the time. And even though they live there just an hour and a half drive from that spot on the river, I know they probably won't go there again until the next time I come. Or maybe they will…maybe they'll need to like I need to. Maybe they'll dream about it like I dream about it. Maybe they'll be desperate to recapture those moments of pure bliss and freedom like I am. Those are the times that you feel like you know what life is about and why it is worth living. Not the everyday grind and the need to accumulate wealth and possessions, not the nitty-gritty edges of life, but the warm, beautiful center of life that tastes like a big, sweet, juicy bowl of cherries.