My bags are all packed up, and all my supplies organized. The fall semester starts up in a week, and I move back onto campus this Saturday!
As there always is with new beginnings, I find myself meeting this upcoming semester with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. I'm full to bursting with nervous energy, so incredibly ready to walk down crowded streets and browse the window displays of posh SoHo outlets, or walk out my door at 12AM, knowing there's an entire world at my finger tips.
I'm excited for Trader Joe's and David's Tea, for the coffee shops and bakeries of Chelsea and Midtown, for watching the leaves turn color in Madison Square and Central Park, and staring up at the ceilings of Grand Central Station before getting on a train that snakes its way up along the Hudson.
There's something intrinsically romantic about living in New York City, and I have to remind myself of that from time to time. After you begin to adapt to the scenery, walking past the Flatiron Building becomes just another grocery trip, and spying the Chrysler Building on the skyline just another walk home from class. There's a certain weight to that; a place, however well-regarded or idolized by its populace and others, is after all still just a place. It isn't always graced, and the reality of living there is rarely so well-regarded. A lot of anxiety comes with living in a city the size and like of New York. But I am incredibly privileged to be going to the college I'm going to, and to be living in the area I am. The trick is to acknowledge the darkness without giving it the power to drag you down.
I'm looking forward to be back among the city; its shadows and its pools of light.
