Paradise Found

I’ve been procrastinating finishing this bit of subpar writing by playing chess, which — while an excellent and effective form of procrastination — has not otherwise been going particularly smoothly, and as I would prefer to proceed to writing other thoughts besides spinning in circles, we’re going to wrap this up and continue onward.

Jumping in. I think it’s fairly common for people to be self-reflective over the holidays, and in that respect, I am no exception. However. I do, occasionally *cough* tend to operate in modes of the extreme (much to the dismay of, oh, everyone) — and this year it culminated over Christmas in an intriguing way which it has not, in fact, done so in recent memory. Probably, I’m now realizing, because I haven’t been home for the holidays since before the pandemic. So, I guess it simply hasn’t had the opportunity to. Storms take time to brew, and generally you need to be present to witness their existence. Okay anyway.

I guess I was feeling pretty isolated in New York City, which might sound like an odd claim, what with it being notorious for the city that never sleeps, and also chock full with 8 million people and all. But whatever; most of my *close* friends moved out years ago and my family, while technically only a short distance away on the other side of the Hudson River in New Jersey, might as well be on the moon. My immediate family doesn’t make the trek to the city, for the most part (only on my birthday — sometimes — or to help me move). As my dad says, “we’re country folk.”

Which is all well and good when I’m visiting them often — it’s always nice to get some country air — the air in New Jersey is so unbelievably fresh and delicious — yet although Manhattan is essentially a stone’s throw away from NJ, the unassuming Hudson River might as well be the Atlantic Ocean when you live on the other side. Especially during a normal week, when you are lost in the day-to-day routine of living in your apartment in the sky, and family or really anyone you know feels like an eternity away.

There is something about friends and family with whom you’re familiar on a level deeper than surface which you really can’t replicate or live without, fully. No matter where you go or how you change, there are people in your life who know you for who you are, at the core, regardless of what you might portray to the world, or how you say you are. They see through it, as if you were transparent. You can’t replace that.

But on my isolated island in New York City, I’d temporarily forgotten this. I do realize this sounds totally dramatic, but suspend disbelief for a second and consider; Manhattan is, quite literally, an island. While overflowing with inhabitants (people and otherwise), it’s a completely different setting than the humble New Jersey. In fact, I think they might be completely different biomes — concrete jungle versus lush garden. They are separate ecosystems.

Everybody can knock on NJ all they want — I can’t imagine why, honestly — but the state of New Jersey is vibrant, abundant and teeming with life. In every direction you turn you’re liable to bump into a forest, farm or lake. It’s called the Garden State for a reason. Not everyone lives or even likes the Jersey Shore.

So I have no idea what everyone is talking about, but the common misperception of NJ does not bother me in the slightest — in fact, I prefer it. The less anyone knows the truth, the better. It’s their loss. More pristine lakes for me to enjoy, thank you.

But as I was saying — there is a whole stunning landscape to discover and I hadn’t been discovering it while being so ensconced in my urban environment, isolated from nature and family. Not exactly my brightest moment. And you know, Christmas represents a lot of things to a lot of people, but the most significant role it plays, as I see it, is the role of bringing family and friends together. Because no matter what the holidays mean for you personally, it’s hard to argue that one of the key components of the season isn’t joining people together to celebrate and spend time with one another.

And for that invaluable gift of the holiday season, I am eternally grateful. No one is an island, even if you live on one. It’s an important lesson to remember.