Three days to experience any part of the world simply isn’t enough time, but in the “city that never sleeps”, I thought that would be different. In some ways, I was right, but to claim the title of a “New Yorker” would be a stretch. Nevertheless, three days taught me three life lessons:

#1 Whether you know where you are going or not, whether you think you can arrive on your own or not, always look to the sky.

In my previous writing I discussed the bitter sweetness of arriving in a place alone. Initially, my mind was clouded by nervousness and premonitions of the city. I thought all New Yorkers were loud. All people loved the Boston Redsocks and that pizza was the main course at every meal, okay well not every meal, all NYers take bagels for breakfast. I should note that I am exaggerating these ideas to illustrate an all too common disposition, although, at the time I was not too different myself and had I taken this journey on my own, I’m not sure my sight would have changed.

At about 10:30 AM on Saturday, October 12, I was greeted by my brother from another mother, Kaleb Sells.

Kaleb and I take on Time Square. 

With a heavy sigh of relief, I sunk into his arms and almost, quite literally rather, died. Both from excitement, and simply from the several Newtons of force exerted in one burst as he and I leapt to hug each other. You see, Kaleb and I became acquainted with one another at the North Carolina Governor’s School in the summer of 2015. We had not seen each other in a year, therefore, this rush of energy only made sense. Another friend, Debby, whom I met through Kaleb also joined, her and I quickly became great friends. Kaleb and Debby are first years at Columbia University in the City of New York. Needless to say, Kaleb, Debby, and I go way back and a three day detour in NY seemed to be the vacation of a lifetime. Also to my wallet’s convenience, my flight to Madagascar would be cheaper from JFK international which to me seemed like a gift from God and in reflection upon my experience, I cannot thank God enough.  My hope is that in joining me in this reflection, that you will soon understand why.

After helping me settle into what would be my college dorm for the weekend, Debbie took her leave to prepare for her birthday festivities. I was informed that I would be attending dinner at a “five-star classy Italian restaurant” to celebrate Debbie’s birthday but had neglected the thought when packing to leave NC. What would I wear? I pursed my lips to articulate my thoughts but Kaleb already knew I was troubled…

I explained my predicament. Kaleb and I decided rather quickly, that if he and I were to take to the streets of NY together, I would need to reconsider my chosen dress code. This was NYC not NC, and reader, I must caution you that floral patterns and bright colors are entirely a trait of southern charm. In most cases, I wouldn’t mind standing out, but I wasn’t going to look like a tourist, because I didn’t feel like one. I was there to live as a college student, to live with my friends, and enjoy the final and finest luxuries of the first world before leaving.

We decided to scavenge through my REI pack sacks in effort to find one acceptable dress for the evening. As I reached to pull the cords, I felt like I had drawn myself into an old Boomerang cartoon. I was like a troubled Tom cat or the Coyote from Road Runner trying to strike a lit match to dynamite. I packed a year’s worth of clothes in these bags and knew the ropes were screaming.

Very rapidly, I discovered the pace of NYC to be very different from that of which I was accustomed to. At home, there is a sensation that time never really passes. Within the crisp autumn breeze, there is this feeling, an unexplainable sense of comforting isolation. The mountains capture the echoes from city streets, procuring serene silence. In my residence, there is a concept of time so peculiar, but precious to me. To those reading from my home, Mitchell county, you will already know what I mean. But, to those of you just now embarking on this journey with me, to those who have only now found themselves written in to my novel, this is likely one of the most difficult things to express. Therefore, I believe it to be entirely essential that you refer to at least one season’s worth of episodes from The Waltons to garner an understanding of my community, of our community. But, for now, I will simply say that I live on a farm, in a region where everyone knows everyone. A place where directions can be given to any location with the simple phrases, “Over yonder” or “In that holler”. If still, you cannot find where you are going, no worries, time is no issue. Simply park your car, or drive until you find phone service (which can be unpredictable). Ask the first person you find. Google maps is never necessary because if you don’t know where you are, your friend or your friend’s friend is always available to guide you. For me, independence has never been an essential aspect of my daily routine. In fact, not knowing the destination even adds a sense of liveliness within the stillness.

Last Glimpse of Home

Contrary to that of home, my new location was entirely different. The dry sweetness of mountain air dissolved all too quickly from my veins and was replaced with a cocktail of car exhaust and SPMs that procured a dreadful burning sensation all throughout my body. Monstrous skyscrapers stood erect all around as soldiers in a war zone. People were running everywhere, or well, in comparison to my pace. Everything was entirely different, but I loved every aspect, every sensation.

Somewhere across from W 116 ST

Quickly, I discovered that if I would survive in this war to stay ahead, I would have to march at a different tempo. Everyone knew where they were going, everyone but me. Already, I found myself  falling in line behind Debbie and Kaleb.

But then I realized, just like these people around me, just like Kaleb and his friends, I was here for a purpose. I was my own crutch. Which leads me to my second lesson.

#2 Don’t underestimate the things you have done, the simple successes that make you who you are, because your measure of self determines your capacity for greatness.

My final year in high school wasn’t perfect, and far from what I’d planned for myself. I had everything set out before me, I’d get accepted by the best schools, and maybe I’d end up at Columbia with Kaleb, but I didn’t. At the time, I questioned the worth of my life and God’s plan, or if he’d made a mistake…Don’t patronize me reader, even the best of Christians stumble.

But now, here, everything is different. The world lies before me, and I intend to exhaust each and every opportunity. I went out on a leap of faith, and by God’s grace I’ve been given a chance like no other.

How did I really get here? Well, that’s a more complicated story, one for another time.

In retrospect, my time in NYC has shown me that I have endless opportunities before me. I am given chances just like all the people passing by, but the trajectory of my life depends on the faith I have in myself, and my abilities.

Part of me wished I’d recognized these things sooner, but then I might not have had this opportunity.

My final lesson, but in time, I’m sure there will be many more to come, isn’t simply a generalized statement, it’s a quote from a man full of wisdom, Kaleb’s vocal instructor.

#3 Life’s about feeling, emotion, about the experience, the rhythm of time.
“Even if it is just one rib jumping in time with the music, that’s enough for you.” Those words burn in my mind like a cigarette pressed deep into an ash tray, they resonate deeply, I’m teaching music in Tanzania in just over a month, and in a lot of ways, music saved me.

Life twists and pulls us through its movie reel in what feels like an endless series of dynamic showmanship. At times we are convinced that we are the greatest in the world, others, worthless, but the truth is, we’re none of that, we’re just here, living, having an experience.

“Never cry on stage, be just on the edge, then the audience is crying.”

Again, another bit of inspiration, but this, the most challenging to grapple with. I know the times I face will be tough in this series of my life and no matter the trials, I must maintain my composure, or my musical performance will fall flat.

“You audition for a callback.”

Why does this matter? From this I’ve learned that if I ever expect to have opportunities like this in the future, I need to let go of all ideas I have about the world, just like I have here in NYC, and maybe my performance will be spectacular, spectacular enough to warrant my return in the years ahead.

Now I have reached the inevitable conclusion that there is absolutely no way I can look back, these words of wisdom have touched my ears and their worth encircles my timeline, and as I reel on, my fear becomes more real, but so does my excitement.

As I fly forward, I leave my fears, my worries, my insecurities all behind. For now, the only reservations I hold, are the ones that wait for me in Madagascar. (yes, the pun was intentional).

P.S. Hey Kaleb, see you by the fountain.