On These Deep City Lights

this city. we are love/hate, she and i.

she pushes me. makes me try new things and meet new people.

she keeps me out of my comfort zone so often that it's become my permanent address.

she runs me ragged every day, exhausting me to the point where i'm wide awake again.

she throws every obstacle possible at me, while i dodge and weave and duck.

she is... tough.

__

we were sitting in his apartment at the time. i was upset about something.

because that's what i did before: got upset.

i liked it, i understood it, it felt comfortable, safe.

he was rallying me, talking me through it, his voice building with enthusiasm.

because that's what he did before: explained the world to me.

i liked it, i understood it, it felt comfortable, safe.

"you know what? sit in it. when you're in this place, just fucking sit in it. lean into that shit."

perhaps not the most eloquently stated, but i can still see him, his eyes locked on me, his hand motions, gesturing like an old school italian mobster but meaning it, god, totally meaning it. present.

"just sit in that muck and that crap and..", I had stopped listening by now, my eyes widening at

this miracle of a human who swept in and fixed everything and explained everything.

i felt so safe and calm and reassured. loved. naturally these were not things i expressed.

but this is how we grow. we say and do things and try and fumble and fail.

__

i was on the phone with my mom tonight, crying, of course.

because that's what i do now: i get it out so it doesn't just sit there, building.

i like it. i understand it. i feel comfortable. safe.

she was listening to me, just listening, not trying to fix it.

because that's what i need now: the freedom to figure it out on my own.

"i know i just have to push through the fear, go through it. it's just so uncomfortable in the meantime.

feeling uncertain is where we're actually supposed to live. nothing is certain, we just create things to feel certain about: rules, organizations, politics, routine, sororities, activities.. but none of it is certain."

i was on a roll. eventually we hung up and as I settled into my bed, my first thought was: "okay, kerry, sit in it."

some of the best advice i've ever gotten.

i would rather be talking it out with him than writing this. i would rather be getting his opinion.

but the universe does this thing where, when i'm facing a bunch of decisions, or when i'm stressed out

and looking for an easy way out of it, without even knowing any of it, he just disappears for a little while.

the other people in my life do not like this. but i think it's this great, big, beautiful gift,

this gentle, loving reminder from the greater forces that it's up to me to figure out my own stuff.

that even the people that love us the most in the world are not here to solve our problems. that's our job.

my email inbox dinged yet again and i looked to see what number 120 would be.

inside were lots of words i needed to read, sent especially for me, including:

"We are being asked to be fearless before the danger of the unknown. To say a big YES to the adventure of our lives, and then risk STANDING OUT, so that we can shine our light. This may be in public, or just in your family. Those of us who choose to grow tend to stand out, because all of a sudden our standards are higher and we won't accept the same crap that we did before."

__

this city. we are love/hate, she and i.

she teaches me. showing me lessons in places and ways i didn't know possible.

she helps me grow. forces me to live my life fully each and every day.

she reflects me. she shows me my own strength in unexpected ways.

she is... tough.

at least we have that in common.