New York Christmas, day 3

We walked up to the observation deck of the Empire State Building. Well, we walked up the last six flights of stairs anyway. 

Ahead of us, an old man, puffed along and it was a matter of pride as much as endurance to not give up.

There is something interesting that hsbhapenednin the last three months as I have worked on adjusting my attitude towards my body: exertion is no less difficult but choosing to begin is more likely. That is, I don't enjoy the gym even an iota more than I ever did, but my willingness to put myself in a situation that moves my body has shifted.

Looking down, then, into the streets we have walked gives me some perspective about what I have successfully accomplished and that awareness fills me with pride.

Walking throughout Manhattan and indulging our nerdy selves (Star Wars and then Hunger Games exhibits?! Yeah!) helped me to settle down into the truth of this trip: I needed to be exhausted in different ways. I needed to shine because of choices that I made, somewhat selfishly, that helped me to feel settled and satisfied. That I need to not lose sight of who I am as a person, outside of my obligatory "roles" as mother and teacher, friend and colleague.

Our Broadway choice, Hamilton, quenched a thirst we didn't know we had and it was marvellous.

New York Christmas, day 2

There is a perception that holiday seasons, especially Christmas, produce an excess of moments that feel almost miraculous. Moments that seem made for the word awesome at it's most literal sense. 

We feel cynical and jaded at a world that is too loud, too violent, too sharp against the soft edges of our innocence to truly feel in awe of the world.

My husband is described as a well-grounded realist, if one is kind, and a sarcastic cynic, if one is honest. As you might imagine, it takes a lot to fill him with awe. But today? Today had moments that were awesome.

We went to the New York Public Library and there, unexpectedly, we got to see a Gutenberg Bible. It's meticulous illumination work and intriguing hand lettered margin notes left us both in a state of profound awe. The historical significance of this book from 1456, there right in front of us here, made us walk in thoughtful contemplation, pondering mhow society shifted so massively in the post-Gutenberg world. 

To pair this, then, with the Museum of Natural History with its timeline of human origins

and the 10:26 scale representation in the Rose Centre was nothing short of mind blowing. Time, distance, importance of humanity? How relative we were, how insignificant our worries, how trite our lives felt against the magnitude of space, the infinitesimally fragments of all the known world.

And so, pondering the greatness of everything, we walked together in the rain through Central Park, 

and took in the lighting of the Rockefeller Tree 

and understood that our place in the world couldn't be understood in simple ways but would be endured in simple joys, together. And that fact settled inside me, a kernel of surety in a life that so often has none.

And that? Is awesome.

New York Christmas, day 1

It is December 1st and I am in New York City for the first time. After enduring a day of travel to get here that included numerous delays and turbulent moments, my husband and I are enjoying the amazing freedom of child free companionship. 

In the months between the last post and now, I have committed myself to changing my perspective.

I go to the gym in the hopes that I can gain a new appreciation for how my body moves, how I can work to make it stronger and more capable, how to love more comfortably in my skin. This process is long and arduous. It continues despite my struggles to make it so.

My work/life balance is exactly as it needs to be, despite a frisson of guilt even at the minimal hours I now teach. The proverbial foot in the door is so hard for a Type A gal like me but the resultant joy I have connecting with my children makes this decision an absolute no-brainer. There is no substitution for my time with them.

And because my time is so focused on where my children are right now, it is hard to ensure that I am also focusing on my own well-being.

I struggle with the guilt and freedom of exploring this new adventure, despite the fact that both of us have undoubtedly earned every moment of this trip. 

Parenting is hard and thirteen years of marriage has been filled with ups and downs but on this New York Christmas honeymoon, I am so thankful for everything that has lead me here.