New York State of Mind

I'm flying up to New York to spend Easter with my parents -- and to help them with their upcoming move.

As we fly over the city, I feel a familiar sense, not quite like I'm coming home, but that everything feels familiar; the houses in Queens, the city in the distance, the web of street lights below. It was comforting, and at the same time, I realized it's not my life any more. I wondered, "If I were still living here, what would I do this evening?" I couldn't really imagine what I would do -- and that's when I knew that my life has changed and my center had really shifted.

It's a strange feeling, really. When I'm in South Carolina, I feel that I'm home because that's where my heart is, that's where my love is, and still, the environment feels very strange to me. All around me, the air, the smells, the strange creatures, all of it feels so unfamiliar and I feel discombobulated when I feel at home in a place that feels so alien to me.

I'm home, but it's not home. Do you know what I mean?

The Pendulum: Feeling Joy, Feeling Grief and Feelings in Between

Writing this blog is really very cathartic. I love being able to journal my feelings online. Hope this doesn't seem too self-indulgent to you.

I'm having a difficult time this week.

On the one hand, I feel like the most blessed individual on earth. Yesterday, it was 75 degrees, spring was in the air, and I was driving down Route 17, windows down, radio blaring and I was singing (and at one point, also driving 72 mph!) I felt the hormones kick in, like they used to in high school, and I felt young again. Spring is here! You can smell it in the air and see it in the light -- it's like someone turned on a spotlight in the sky -- and I feel things stirring in the earth. The birds are singing earlier in the morning, and I hear different songs. The snowbirds must be beginning to return north.

On the other hand, I really, really, really miss New York. And, here's the strange part. I miss it, but don't feel the need to fly up there. I was supposed to fly up to NYC next week, when my husband will be up there, but don't feel compelled to travel as I was just there. How can I really miss New York and yet not feel the desire be there? It doesn't make sense.

I guess I miss my old life. And, Landon, if you are reading this, it doesn't mean that I don't love you or that I want my old life back. I love you and feel happy beyond belief to be with you. But, I do miss my life.

I miss being able to go out to Brighton Beach on the W train if I felt the need to go out of Manhattan. I miss being able to hop a train and go out to Astoria Queens so that I can sit at Lefkos Bakery and eat my favorite baklava. I miss being able to work inside all day and then sit in a Starbucks and watch the world go by. I miss being able to walk down the street to the 92nd Street Y and hear Bill Clinton speak or Paul Krugman or David McCullough or whoever. I miss being able to go out to dance for hours to a swing band. I miss going to Carnegie Hall on a whim. I miss being able to go to a conference, meeting someone and following up and having coffee with them at a later date. I miss not knowing what might be lying right around the corner. I miss all the boroughs I didn't get to explore. I miss the creativity, the energy, the people of New York. I miss my life.

I guess this is the grieving process -- grieving for what was lost and left behind. What is so strange to me is that I willingly left this behind to be with Landon, I am happy in my new life, it has lots of new things to discover, new people to meet, new activities to learn.

At this point, I don't really know what to do. I feel the need to dig in and to nest into my new life. There are still rooms that need painting (more on that saga in another post), pictures that need hanging, boxes that still need to be unpacked. And, my office is a disaster. I really need to create a sense of order there...that's why I'm staying home while Landon will be in New York. I want to invest my energy here. Is all of this activity a diversion? It doesn't feel that way. It just feels like I need to make a commitment to my new life, which is here. I guess I am still in transition -- leaving the old and embracing the new.

I knew when I came down here that it would be different. And, I knew that if I tried to compare my new life with my old, I would be unhappy because they aren't comparative -- they are too different. So, I made the decision that I was going to be happy, and I am. But letting go is hard to do.

Any suggestions? Please comment. I'm listening...Thanks.

Guess Which Restaurant?

Last week, when in New York, I had lunch in a very famous restaurant.

As I was leaving, I decided to use the ladies' powder room.

Here's some decor from inside...do you know the restaurant? Please write me if you know...

PS. I will share the answer in the Comments section...

"Either / Or" versus "And"

I'm back in my home with my husband -- the dogs were happy to see me, particularly Blaze who practically bowled me over when he saw me get out of the car. Xena is much better behaved.

And, I was happy to see Landon. It seems like forever that we were together, even though it was only a week.

Sitting in our den, in front of the fire this morning, I'm thinking about yesterday's post and how part of me felt torn about leaving New York and coming home.

Maybe it doesn't have to be an either / or. Maybe my life can include "and." I live in South Carolina AND New York. Instead of choosing, maybe I can choose to have both. I'll never give up my love affair with New York, it's just ingrained in me. But, accepting that, I can also choose to embrace my new life and be open to different experiences. That sure feels better than having to choose one over the other. I feel much better...

It's the transitions that are difficult. When I first got to NYC, I felt like a tourist. I saw the grafetti, looked at people when I passed them, I might even have mumbled a "hi", much to the consternation of those around me. I hope they thought I was just muttering. Up there, that's more acceptable than being friendly.

Then I got back to the South and heard a "Thank you Ma'am" and "Have a good day", both of which sounded really strange to these ears which had been in Northern territory for a week.

So, I am accepting that I can have both worlds, both places which I love. Now I'll work on easing the transition between them so that it doesn't feel like I'm leaving the earth's atmosphere and re-entering, which is how it feels to me at the moment.

Do you have any suggestions for me? Anything that might make the transitions easier? I'm all ears...please feel free to comment. I love listening to my readers.

In A New York State of Mind

I’ve just arrived at LaGuardia Airport for my flight to Charleston, and I feel like I’m going home, home because home is where the heart is and my heart is always with Landon. I long to feel the rhythm of my new life in the South, a rhythm that is so closely tied to the patterns of the land.

And yet, and yet…the lure of the city beckons. I can’t get over my love affair with New York. I can remember when I was a kid, standing in front of the clock in Grand Central, waiting for my dad, and telling myself then that I knew I wanted to live in New York. And, live there I did. For 23 years.

New York City is one of the most ethnically diverse places in the world, with Brooklyn boasting more than 160 ethnicities and Jackson Heights even more. I love the city’s harmonious diversity.

When sitting on the subway, I marvel at the faces I see across from me – from Mexico, Gambia, Serbia, Korea, Croatia, China, Vietnam, Poland, along with the Irish-Americans, Italian-Americans, Jewish, Catholic and WASPs – all mingling together, a smorgasbord of nationalities, religions, languages and dialects in one place. It’s fantastic.

Why do they come? Why are people attracted to New York? For the vibrancy, the energy, the creativity, the possibility, the opportunities. The dream. “If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere,” sings Frankie and we all try to make it here. Some do and some don’t, but most of us try. Us. Hmmmm. I still see myself as part of it. The aspirational motivation that defines New York.

New York is a walking city. I used to walk everywhere to get around – to the subway, to the park, to work, from work, to the store, to restaurants, to my friends’ places, to parties, to museums, to ice skating, to coffee shops, to bookstores. It’s all about walking. Because you never know what you’ll see or what you’ll stumble upon.

The singular thing that most tourists miss about the city is that New York is a city of neighborhoods. I have lived in several different ones. When I first came to the city, I lived in the West Village which was local and full of artisans and merchants and less trendy than it is now; up to Spanish Harlem where our local Cuban wine merchant closed at 6 pm on Fridays so that we could try his new bottles; to all over the Upper West Side, from 73rd to 89th and always between Central Park West and Broadway. At one point, I was moving every nine months.

In my last West Side apartment, I lived with my college roommate, Karen. We had an incredible place – with two bedrooms, two baths, a fireplace and most of all, an outside garden which Karen took care to plant because even though she was an investment banker, she had studied to be a landscape architect. I was subletting from her roommate who had just gotten married. Unfortunately, she decided that she wanted to have a toe-hold in the city and that I would have to move. And, that’s when it happened. I had to move to the East Side.

There is a HUGE rivalry between the Upper West Side of Manhattan and the Upper East Side, a divide which few overcome. There is a kind of unwritten understanding that if you live on the West Side, you would never consider living on the East Side (even though it’s just across the park). Moving from one “Side” to the other is like switching your loyalty from the NY Yankees to the Boston Red Sox. It just isn’t done.

Initially, I was devastated. But, eventually, I learned to like the East Side, and even decided that I preferred to live there. There were more dry cleaners, supermarkets…it was just easier to live day-to-day. Once I got there, I never left. Until now.

So, now I’m living in the South. It’s strange because the Lowcountry, while gorgeous and inviting, doesn’t feel like home. It feels like a pretty place where I live, and the people are kind, but it lacks the kind of deep resonance with my soul. Or, who knows? I’m writing this on the plane as it takes me from my city to the country. Perhaps, as Billy Joel writes, I’m just in “a New York state of mind.”

I Love to Shovel Snow!

I love to shovel snow. It's true...

Today it snowed for most of the day and we got about 4 inches of light, fluffy snow. So, after my meetings in New York, I took the train home and walked home from the station in the snow. It was still coming down...

When I got to my parent's house, I felt inspired to shovel. So, I put down my bags and started to shovel. First, a line up the middle of the driveway, then shovelling left, then to the right, halfway up the driveway and then working the street back. It was SO much fun. I guess it was fun because I only had to do it once, instead of all through the winter, and I choose to do it. But, I've got to tell you, it was a blast.

And, just look at how beautiful this dogwood tree is in the snow with its lacy covering.

The Housing Market -- Up Close and Personal

My parents are moving to Chicago to be in an independent living place. We are thrilled for them that they found a place that everyone likes, including my mom.

Their house is on the market – we put it on priced to sell. It’s on for $100,000 below the appraised value.

Here’s the thing: they can’t move into the new place without either selling the house or getting interim financing. So, I decided to visit some local banks to talk to them about our borrowing need. Yes, in this market. I felt like a walking statistic.

I visited with 4 banks – and basically told them that we wanted an interest only, two-year term loan (bridge loan?) of a certain amount, secured by the house. I also communicated to them my parents’ investments and monthly fixed and investment income. Here’s the outcome of those conversations:

Bank #1: The woman was delightfully friendly, but informed me that the only type of loan or financing they could provide was a home equity loan and because the house was on the market, she couldn’t provide it. Apparently, if we had asked for this before the house went on the market…no problem. She went on to explain that a home equity loan was considered to be a long-term loan and the bank was afraid that they would lose money on the loan if we sold our house next month. I offered to pay a pre-payment penalty. No can do, she said.

Bank #2: I went to the bank where my parents had done business for over 30 years. “Oh, you want a home equity loan? I’m sorry, we don’t do those if your house is on the market,” the bank manager said. Really, I thought? Because I spoke to someone else in your bank who was willing to write the loan for me – I even have the papers – but am not interested because the loan rate was prime + 2. That’s too much. Oh yeah, and I can’t stand that the guy calls me “hon” whenever I call.

Bank #3: This bank is a newly-formed local bank. I went to speak to a loan officer in my hometown, based on a referral I received from Bank #1. The guy listened intently to my story, told me of another customer he had helped in a similar situation, and went to find out whether he could obtain the approval to do the loan (because the house is on the market.) They are willing to do it. I’m thrilled – and their rate is below prime. He gave me the application form and told me that they could have an answer to us in a week. I now understand the value of “going local.”

Bank #4: I was tired and hungry (it was 3:30 pm and I hadn’t had lunch) but I decided to go to one more bank. So, I walked in. This bank was a little scruffy, and dirty, but the woman at the information desk was friendly and helpful so I didn’t mind. She brought me to the bank manager, a plump, unkempt woman, obviously a smoker. I thought to myself: don’t judge, she could be “the one” and, sure enough, she was great! I watched her face intensely focus as I was explaining the situation. She told me her bank wouldn’t do a home equity loan if the house was on the market, but that if I would take the house off the market for a week before I called her, she would write up the loan and it would take 2 – 3 weeks to get it approved.

So, there you have it. One bank with with an unequivocal “NO”, one bank with a "yes" and a "no", one bank with a creative approach and a banker with enough common sense to see that she could find a way to do a loan and make money for her bank (and help us in the process). I was so unimpressed with the lack of creativity and business initiative of these banks, and their bureaucratic bankers. It’s no wonder that the banks are in trouble. What I found was that if they didn’t have a bank “product” that met my need, they were unwilling, or unable, to help me. Don’t they understand that the market has changed? They still have a policy on the books that they can’t do home equity loans if the house is on the market because they are afraid that the house will sell quickly and they won’t be able to get a return on their money.

Hey banks – I have some advice for you. Instead of finding ways to say “no” and losing out on making some money, why don’t you look for a way to make such a loan profitable for you? All you have to do is to impose a pre-payment fee. Make it 1%. That will more than cover your costs and still allow you to make money on top of that. Wake up!

To NYC

I'm sitting on a plane going from Charleston SC to NYC. Of course, I've made this trip many times before during my courting stage with Landon, during the planning of our wedding and after our wedding, back and forth, forth and back, from my old life to my new one and back. This time it's different. for the first time, I feel like I'm leaving my "life" to visit a moment in time that has passed.

My friends are a constant, a bridge between the two worlds. I can't wait to see Sarah, Dwight, Susan, Gina, Shanahan (you know a good friend when you are on a last name basis) and Evie and Lisa and Jon. I'm trying to make time to see each of them.

Sarah wants me to go out late with her tonight to hear her favorite band, the Loan Sharks, who are playing in the Bronx at 11pm. Now, I love to dance, but this just doesn't sound fun any more. Well, I take that back. It sounds really fun, but also really late and complicated and...cold for this time of year.

Now I like to get up early in the morning, before 6, so that I can work and pray and listen to my inner wisdom and get grounded before the day come crashing in around me, when the phone starts ringing and the activity starts. I like to get up early enough so that I can watch the sun rise over the marsh and write creative thoughts and feel the peace of the day.

My world has shifted, and I have shifted with it.