The View of New York from 30,000 Feet

I’m on my way to New York, paging through an Allure magazine.  I’ve probably drank too much coffee already and somebody needs to tell me not to wear light silk dresses on the plane.  My legs are sticking to the (first class) leather seats [insert The Grinch Grin].  I’m super psyched to get into JFK.  I haven’t been there since I was a sophomore and in a huge awkward stage.  I’m serious. I wore Silver jeans to big for me and a huge white Old Navy sweatshirt.  I bought a floppy train hat to wear around Central Park to hide the reflection from my thick rimmed black glasses.  I thought I was so stylish because I bought a mesh lime-green top at a sheek Forever 21-ish shop in Manhattan.

I never wore it.  Now I think Miley Cyrus’s little slutty sis has the same one in every color.

Anyway.  I’m excited to land in the big apple.  I vaguely remember the feeling of New York.  That’s what I think makes it so appealing.  The vibe.  I mean, a city it a city.  This one just happens to be exceedingly large and full of people from around the world.  But it’s what New York exudes that is the pure excitement.  Like a musky perform, New York is potent, punchy and dreamy.  Full of fairytales and ideas, New York captures a piece in everybody that makes them believe it’s where their wildest imaginings can be conducted in success.  New York is raw fashion, it’s rich culture, it’s bold and deep architecture.  Its personality is worldly and never sweet.  The city is never modest, it’s never going to hold the door open for you and it’s never going to say “please” and “thank you.”

You know what’s weird though? The closer I get, the less I believe New York is easily able for hopes and dreams fulfilled.  From a far away spectrum, the lights of Times Square on the TV and the deep set lines of the buildings in photography make me believe.  But as we decent to the JFK airport (I should probs get off my laptop soon here) I feel the realness, and it’s scary.   The dreams are getting more difficult to decipher as my eyes meet skyscrapers.

But why is something so real, so far away?  Why are dreams diminished by what I see? Why does reality strip imagination from the shelves of opportunity?

Who knows really.  Maybe it’s the visual shoulder-shake.  The deep alleys of New York are calling my bluff.  When what you see really meets what you’ve been seeing in your imagination for so long, comes in to perspective, I bulk.  Is it because I’m scared? Maybe, probably, sure.  But that’s where dreams and success turn – you overcome them.  You overcome the fear of reality, the possibility of failing, the act of remorse and eventually you achieve recourse.

. . .I’m looking out my plane window…I see long and expressive strips of road.  I see freckled specks of glistening buildings in the sun.  I see my coffee violently swaying in my thick white coffee cup to the rock of the airplane.  I see opportunity.  I see self-reflection.  I see energy.

I’m scared to get a taxi.

Now I ask you. What are you scared of? What are you excited to conquer? And when you conquer them, does reality give you the temptation to turn and run?

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Categories: Life & Happiness


University of Saint Thomas graduate. Minnesota-bred and happy to talk about the weather any time you’d like! Strongly believes any situation can be bettered by a slice of generously buttered toast or Phil Dunphy. Would get arrested to touch Justin Timberlake’s face. Always trying to be a better person by not wishing horrible karma on people driving slow in the fast lane. Hear more: @twitter @instagram


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