Full Circle
The first story in my new book centers around the Museum of Natural History in New York City. For reasons that seem silly now, it was important that I get myself to the museum during what was my first trip to the city. Even though I realized while at the museum that it wasn't where I wanted to be (and my reason for going would soon enough no longer even apply), in the moment I viewed my being there as nothing short of crucial.
I confess I've avoided returning to the museum on subsequent trips to the city--mostly because it reminds me of a time in life that I'd rather forget--but while in New York last month, I bit the bullet and found myself staring once again at the giant blue whale that opens my second book. It felt a tad eerie, I don't know why, but I was surprised that it also felt a little bit like relief. And, inexplicably, redemption. It had been ten years since I'd last stood there. Think about that. An entire decade of life. And while one school of thought is that my singleton self is still no closer to love or to my dreams than I was then, another school of thought--the one to which I subscribe--is that I am now ten years closer.
See, my fascination with coming full circle has less to do with the deja vu-esque sensation of having been there before, but rather with the much more arresting analysis of all the things that have transpired since being in that scenario or place. When face to face with the whale last month, it became a rather liberating trifecta--part relief for being so far removed from a life path that would have never allowed me to reach any kind of potential, part gratitude over all the experiences I've had over the past decade, and part hope for the dreams yet to be realized as I step out into the world much closer to them than I was back then. So my only advice on this day of remembrance and honor is that if there's a place you've been avoiding because of the memories it generates, bring it on. You will surprise yourself, not just by your ability to handle it, but by the realization that you are a stronger and better person one year, ten years, or fifty down the road. Here's to you. Here's to getting there. And here's to getting there again.