December 11, 2011

  • ZERO DEGREES OF SEPARATION

    When I first moved into my rent controlled Upper East Side apartment a gazillion years ago nobody spoke to anybody – the chill in the elevator was palpable. After the building went co-op in the nineties things began to shift slightly and slowly as older tenants moved to other locations or dimensions and a new generation replaced them.

    This was especially noticeable on the tenth floor where I live when, several years ago, two single women moved into two vacant apartments. Both are friendly. One of them, Chandley, is a born Auntie Mame. She started a revolution by inviting everyone on our floor (and others she met in the building) to her annual Christmas party.

    There is quite a crowd since in addition to her neighbors; Chandley invites her family, childhood friends from her home state of Ohio, and both old and new business acquaintances to partake of her warm hearted bounty and hospitality. Space is tight so I gladly allow some of her furniture to overnight at my place.

    Love is thriving on the tenth floor. The other single lady has reunited with her pre-marital romance and they are soooooo happy! Chandley’s divorced contractor married last years’ girlfriend. Ditto.

    LAST NIGHT’S CAMARADARIE WAS EXCEPTIONAL.

    Perhaps this is a reflection of a shift in how we relate to one another. After 9/11 we felt closer to fellow citizens on the street. New Yorkers tend to bond in times of crisis, giving evidence that we are really not as rude and uncaring as our reputation.

    One of my core practices, after migrating from my southern roots to the Mecca that is New York
    – was and is – 

    Travel alone and talk to strangers.

    Somehow these crossings of paths seem predestined, producing friendships and partnerships that are like a continuance of past experience.

    In 1971, I maxed out my credit card to buy a plum and raspberry outfit to wear on a ski weekend - at breakfast I walked over to a table and introduced myself to my future significant other of almost thirty years.

    About five years ago, in an exotic shop in the East Village, I admired a handmade bracelet worn by a woman who bought it in Uruguay. This beacon led to a trip to one of the poorest countries in South America with one of the richest stores of artisans.

    And a warm reception by an open and welcoming population.

    In July of 2009 I cruised to Alaska. On board ship I said hello to Rebecca Low, a vocal coach and motivational speaker from Singapore. Since then she has visited me in NY where we planned joint workshops which we presented at the National University of Singapore in 2010. Our next collaboration will be a book based on sound combining our expertise.

    Rebecca calls me her Metaphysical Mom. 

    PERHAPS WE ARE INTENDED FROM CONCEPTION TO BE FEARLESS. AFTER ALL, THE WALLS OF THE WOMB ARE PROTECTIVE, SAFE AND NURTURING.

    THEN AFTER EMERGENCE WE LEARN FROM OUR ENVIRONMENT THAT THIS MAY NOT WORK ON THE OUTSIDE. 

    WE ENCOUNTER THE DANGERS PERCEIVED (CORRECTLY) TO BE INHERANT IN SEPARATION.

    WOULDN’T IT BE NICE IF –

    THE WORLD ITSELF WERE MORE WOMB-LIKE WHERE WITHIN ITS’ CHILDREN COULD CO-EXIST WITHOUT MENACE FROM EACH OTHER?