Populated Solitude

I woke up and looked out my front window and saw the family from the happy house walking down the street toward downtown. Just as they arrived at the Rosie building the guy on the top floor was dumping a bucket of soapy water off the porch. He wasn't intending to harm anyone, he was just oblivious to the people walking below. Luckily the family moved out of the way in time. It was comical but sad.

My parents worked hard to get out of their childhood ghetto in Brooklyn and move to the affluent suburbs of my childhood where the lawn was not for playing on and porches were not for sitting on. Hardly anyone walked down our street except occasionally kids walking to school. Our home was a fortress of control. I did not want that life. I still shudder imagining even a moment of it.

This morning I walked by the benches at Saint Germain Manor to say hello to the elderly folks who love Lily - Lily's fan club. I was told that Joe, one of Lily's biggest fans, had a stroke and was in the rehabilitation hospital. How's he doing? They said one side of him is paralyzed. Will he be back? Yes but he can't drive anymore. He's such a sweet guy. There are six Lily-loving characters that sit in the shade, in the cozy spot under the beech trees where two benches face each other and there's always a breeze. I look forward to seeing them each morning when I walk Lily. I miss them on rainy days and when the weather gets too cold for them to be outside.

I need a life of solitude to work, so I crave the permeable boundaries of city living. At any moment I can step out and walk around the neighborhood with my dog and life is exploding, bursting at the seams in both quiet and loud ways. This is a comfort to me although sometimes I can't retreat far enough from the shouting, sirens, and chaos of urban poverty. On those days I walk to the community of small houses that line the pond. I enjoy the contrasting tranquility. It is a vacation for me yet I am glad to return to my home. In an urban environment you don't need a car or lots of money to be entertained or reminded that there's a big world out there. You can just walk down the street and be in the world populated by other people.

I am grateful for this - no matter how engrossed I get I am reminded of a bigger world when I step out onto the street. As much as I dive in to my work, I also need to swim to shore to be reminded that I am not alone.